


Wild Justice

by Hekate1308



Series: Demons Among Us [2]
Category: Endeavour (TV)
Genre: Demonic Endeavour Morse, Gen, Magical Realism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-08
Updated: 2020-02-08
Packaged: 2021-02-28 00:47:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 25,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22615081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hekate1308/pseuds/Hekate1308
Summary: A horrible crime. An orphaned child. And a young couple who would do anything to keep the memory of their fallen friends alive, even if it meant to raise a demon as their own.It all went well for years, until the shadows of the past came back to haunt them.
Relationships: Endeavour Morse & Fred Thursday, Endeavour Morse & Joan Thursday, Endeavour Morse & Win Thursday
Series: Demons Among Us [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1627120
Comments: 7
Kudos: 26





	Wild Justice

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Robin_Fai](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Robin_Fai/gifts).



> You may notice that this is part of a series. This is due to the fact that I had one idea, and then couldn't decide which direction I should take it, so I wrote both. Maybe you just want to read one. Maybe you'll read both! (In that case, I would be really curious which version you prefer).  
> Also, this is a gift for Robin_Fai. Hope you enjoy it!

**Prologue – 1938**

It wasn’t a dark and stormy night, which just seemed wrong when he thought about it later. If things like this had to happen (and he would always strictly maintain that they _didn’t_ ) they should do so when storms were brewing and lightning was striking and one could understand that some humans had come straight from hell.

But it wasn’t. It wasn’t a dark and stormy night. In fact, it was a pleasant summer evening.

Had been.

There were hands holding him back, but he shook them off, reeled around, punched the owner of said hands in the face. “They’re our friends!” he shouted, already running into the burning building.

The flat was ablaze. He immediately started coughing from the smoke. “Cyril? Constance! It’s me –“

His foot hit something soft and when he looked down, there was Cyril, his eyes unseeing, his throat cut.

Constance was only lying a small distance beside him.

Oh God. Those bastards. _Those bastards._

And then another surge of panic – “ENDEAVOUR?”

He desperately tried to get closer, to see if he could find the boy, but it was too hot, and with a pang he realized that there was every reason to think that he had done what small children usually did when there was a fire – hidden away and by now choked on the fumes.

Tears of frustration and anger came into his eyes as he stumbled outside, coughing.

Mrs. Tracy from next door hurried over to him. “Oh God, are you –“

“Yes, don’t worry” he coughed.

“What about –“

He met her eyes and she guessed the truth. “Oh.”

“Serves them right if you ask me” a man sneered. “What business do they have living here, amongst decent humans?”

He wanted to punch him as well, but instead only balled his hands into fists.

Father Bernard from the church down the street was there as well and gently admonished the man, as was his wont. “It is a shame that it had to come to this” he said, crossing himself.

Fred told himself that being angry was of absolutely no use as he looked through the crowd for his wife.

She wasn’t there.

Rather worried, and knowing there was nothing he could until the fire was put out, he walked two buildings further to get to their small flat.

Strangely enough, she didn’t come to meet him as he unlocked the door and called out “Hello?”

He had to cough again but once it subsided, he heard it. Or rather, them.

Small, gentle whimpers.

Scared that she’d got hurt, he hurried on.

He found her in the living room, holding unto –

The second he saw those russet curls, he felt a weight lift from his shoulders. “Endeavour?”

He didn’t stop crying into her blouse. She was rocking him, tears running down her own cheeks as well.

Now he could understand what the boy was saying, and it broke his heart in an instant.

“I wan’ my Mummy, _I wan’ my Mummy_ , where’s Mummy, where’s Daddy, I wanna go home –“

“Constance sent him to me when – when it started” she whispered as he let himself sink down beside them.

He nodded. Their eyes met, and she understood, her limps starting to tremble before she forced them to stop in an effort to help the child.

“Look, Endeavour” he tried, “Why don’t we wait hear until we’ve all calmed down a bit?”

He was only five; he had to fall asleep eventually.

He raised his head, only now becoming aware that their company had grown, and broke his heart again as he tried to politely say hello like his parents had taught him but was unable to after what he’d been through.

He took both of them in his arms.

Only many years later would he realize that in this moment, all was already decided.

**Part One – 1965**

Sergeant Peter Jakes liked to believe that he was as tolerant as the next man. And now, with the Bill guaranteeing Supernatural creatures equal citizenship and many feeling they could now drop their spells of hiding, that was a good thing.

Although he wouldn’t hesitate to admit that over the course of this weekend it had rather been a surprise to learn that he had been living near a vampire nest for a while.

Still – things could have gone much worse, he reflected as he drove to pick up the Old Man. Everything appeared to be calm, and the few incidences that had taken place over the weekend had mostly been blockheads who simply didn’t understand that all most creatures wanted was to live a normal life without being bothered.

He parked and got out of the car, only to stop almost instinctively move back.

Something was different about the house. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but there was something… a buzzing at the back of his neck…

Shaking his head at himself, he knocked on the door.

Mrs. Thursday opened as she had done many times before, but Peter couldn’t help but stare.

This was impossible.

Mrs. Thursday, while a few years younger than her husband, was slowly but steadily climbing towards sixty too; and until this Monday, she had looked her age, albeit in a handsome way.

The woman who had just opened the door for him could easily have been mistaken to be in her mid-forties at most.

“Ah, Peter, do come in” she said, though, friendly as always, as he took in the black and red dress that she was wearing.

As he stepped over the threshold, he heard chanting come from the living room, in a manner he had heard before…

“The children are saying the prayers for the departed – it’s the Day Of The Fallen, you know” Mrs. Thursday informed him. “Have a cup of tea.”

It clicked. The Temple. He had heard similar chanting coming out of the Temple in the city.

And the Day Of The Fallen? But that was a demonic…

Certainly, his superior officer couldn’t have been a demon all this time. It was impossible; it was ridiculous to even entertain that thought.

And yet he had to seriously contemplate it when he entered the dining room and found DI Thursday looking as rejuvenated as his wife, wearing a black suit with a dark red shirt and no tie.

Demons traditionally didn’t wear those, he remembered. “Ah, hello Sergeant.”

“Good morning, sir.” Was he supposed to react to the changes in any way? Should he wish him a happy Day Of The Fallen? Only it was a sad occasion, wasn’t it. He really should have paid more attention to the supernatural over the years…

He chose to sit down and drink his tea, which Thursday seemed more than happy with.

Just then, the singing stopped and the Thursday children entered, both looking as Peter had come to know them and as he had never seen them before.

Oh, he had known there was an oldest son. He had met him, on occasion. But now that he considered it, his thoughts had always slid off of him, like water off a duck.

He was smiling, albeit a little pained; Miss Thursday had actually put her arm around his shoulder. “Hello, Sergeant. Just so you know, I am the only demon around here. Mum and Dad took pity on me and me into their family.”

Mrs. Thursday swept into the room and tutted. “Really, dear, no reason to say such things. You’re our boy”. She ran her fingers through his curls; it was such an intimate, familiar moment that Peter had to fight the urge to run away. “It was a nice chanting. I am sure Constance and Cyril would have appreciated it.”

He nodded. “Thanks, Mum.” He sat down across from Peter.

Really, he thought, studying him, there was no reason to look at him and think _demon_. He was slender, but of the sort that still suggested he regularly had healthy meals, no doubt courtesy of Mrs. Thursday; his russet curls spoke of a different colouring than the rest of the family, but that didn’t mean to have anything; and the only indication that he was positively a demon, he was currently hiding.

Well, that and the powers they supposedly had. Peter had never paid much attention to that because it seemed rather unlikely to think they had as many as people did and still let themselves get slaughtered on a regular basis.

Chances were, that or something similar was what had happened to his parents, and the Thursdays had happened to take him in, as he’d put it.

“We’re dropping them off at the Temple” DI Thursday told him.

He nodded. There was probably some ritual or other he – Endeavour, he told himself, how could he have forgotten so often – wanted to perform… but _them_?

“Sorry I couldn’t get a holiday, son” Thursday told their oldest.

“I told you, Dad, it’s fine.” He smiled at him. “My parents… they would be thankful you were thinking of them, anyway.”

When Peter understood that he was expected to drive the whole family, he understood why Thursday had told him specifically to take one of their largest cars. At least this way, they could transport the four of them without any problems.

They made small talk until they reached the Temple, where the family got out, leaving him alone with DI Thursday.

At first, they drove on in silence, but then Thursday spoke. “Constance and Cyril were Endeavour’s parents. We became friends when we had our first place in London, right before the war.”

Peter stayed quiet so as not to disrupt his speech.

“And then…” he trailed off. “You know how humans are. Someone broke into their flat and set it on fire after cutting their throats. Thankfully Constance had sent Endeavour to Win. We took him in.”

Just like that. A young couple who probably hadn’t planned on having children yet, and there they had been with a small demon. Well, if anyone would do it, Peter thought, it would be the Thursdays.

Still, it raised several questions. “I thought…” he began, then swallowed before tentatively continuing “I was under the impression, sir, that they take care of their own. He would have a place in the Academy, wouldn’t he?”

Demons, while mostly peaceful, were still known to be strong soldiers and officers, and so – at least an article Peter had read over the weekend (with the somewhat ridiculous title of Let’s Get To Know Our New Citizens!) had explained – they would place orphaned demons in The Academy, to make sure they were raised right.

“Yes, well, we felt that it would have been a bit much for a grieving five-year-old. And Constance had sent him to us, after all. We felt responsible for him. And he really was the cutest little demon you could imagine. And you should have seen him when Joan and Sam came along. They have always been very lose.”

Alright but that didn’t quite explain… “Ahm, sir, I was wondering, that is, if you don’t mind me asking..”

“Ah, you mean our age?” to his surprise, the DI chuckled. “Demons age somewhat slower than humans; longer life expectancy and all that. We did notice around the forty-five mark that people still thought we were in our thirties. Turned out when we consulted a specialist that Endeavour by now considered us his true parents as well, and that old blood magic had been activated.” He sounded very proud of the fact, and it took Peter a moment to understand that it was about how well Endeavour had fitted into their family.

“I see.”

“A potion took care of it until now – made people not realize or wonder – but we decided that it should no longer be needed.”

“I see” he repeated, somewhat lamely.

Thursday chuckled again. “I know it’s a lot to take in. I expect the whole station will be a bit surprised.”

That was probably an understatement.

* * *

The first one they met was Strange, who looked up from his desk only for his mouth to fall open as he took Thursday in.

“Good morning, Strange” he said, his eyes twinkling with that same playfulness he had observed in the car as he swept into his office.

Strange had never been one to hide his surprise and now he looked at Peter, spluttering “What the –“

“Adopted a demon” Peter rushed out. “Seems like that gives you a few decades more.”

Stranger’s eyes widened. “Would think they’d make that public. Less resentment against them, I imagine.”

“Not sure it works all the time. It’s blood magic. Don’t really get it” he shrugged.

Strange, at least, looked like he agreed.

And that was it, really. Several of their colleagues did a double-take when they saw the no-longer-quite-that-Old-Man, but everyone seemed to agree that it was his private business.

And for an hour, everything went smoothly.

Then the call came.

Someone had attacked the Temple.

**Part Two – 1937**

It might have been small, but it was their first proper place, and they were proud of it. Win had already decorated it to the best of her abilities, ensuring that the flat was incredibly comfortable, and Fred contemplated their imminent dinner with pleasure as he strolled down their street. He’d even managed to clock out on time today.

Someone bumped into him. “Oh I am very sorry” a pleasant female voice said.

Fred recognized one of their neighbours; he’d seen her a few fleeting times in the two weeks since they had moved in. “No harm done” he assured her, only now realizing that she was holding the hand of a small boy. She had probably been preoccupied with the child.

He thought it best to introduce himself; they had not yet had the chance to make friends of any of their neighbours. “Fred Thursday. We live in 26B.”

“Constance Morse, 24C over there. And this is Endeavour” she said. “Endeavour, do you remember what one is supposed to do when one meets someone new?”

A little shyly, he nodded, then looked up at Fred with wide eyes. “Hello. Nice to meet you.”

He smiled. “It’s nice to meet you too, Endeavour.”

He huffed with obvious pride.

Fred was about to politely bid them goodbye when the boy’s eyes turned black.

He hoped he hadn’t flinched but was taught better when Mrs. Morse immediately said, “I’m sorry, he can’t control it yet…” sounding rather worried.

“I’m sure he will soon enough” he managed to answer. He had met a few demons in his time, and they had never bothered him. If anything, he’d say they were more law-abiding than humans.

She looked relived.

“I mean, you can’t be – how old are you, Endeavour?” he soldiered on.

“Four, Mr. Thursday!” he piped up, his eyes slowly returning to their normal colour.

“Well then, like I said – you’ll work it out eventually” he replied evenly. Really, it was difficult to imagine someone less threatening than Mrs. Morse and her rather adorable son.

He grinned up at him. Impulsively, he reached out and ruffled his hair. As he then wished them a good evening, he couldn’t help but feel that there was too much gratitude in Mrs. Morse’s eyes.

He decided to tell Win though, if only so she wouldn’t be surprised as he had been. “Do you know” he asked her during dinner “That we have demonic neighbours?”

She nodded, frowning. “Heard about it at the grocery store. You should have heard the things they had to say about it – it’s a shame how some treat others. They’re the couple in their late twenties; right?”

He nodded. “There’s little chance they are in any way dangerous. Met Mrs. Morse and her little boy – he showed me his eyes accidentally. And even then, he looked cute.”

“Oh, I didn’t know about the child.” Win thought about it for a moment. “I might invite her to coffee one of these days. Show her that not all humans are prejudiced.”

That was his Win.

Coffee, which took place only a few days later, was deemed a complete success. Win and Mrs. Morse soon found that they had a lot in common; and when it came to Endeavour, Win couldn’t praise him enough. “He was so well-behaved… and such a gentle, friendly boy too. When I gave him a biscuit his whole face lit up.”

This, of course, meant a dinner invitation soon enough, during which they met Cyril Morse properly for the first time. There was a hint of a suspicious wariness that, however, couldn’t withstand the onslaught of Win’s hospitality.

After dinner, he and Fred had a drink in the kitchen while their wives were in the living room, talking quietly; Endeavour was with his mother.

They shared the slightly awkward silence men usually did when their wives had befriended one another and had decided they should as well before Mr. Morse began, “Sorry. I know I came off as a little stand-offish in the beginning. Not that it’s an excuse, but it’s not always easy for us.”

“I can imagine that. Seen enough in my work”.

He nodded. “We do our best, but some people just don’t understand. I am very thankful to your wife; I know Constance’s been feeling a bit lonely, with it just being her and Endeavour all day long.”

“It’s no trouble” he said. “Win’s been looking for friends too.”

He smiled. “She dotes on Endeavour.”

“Anyone would”. That, at least, was true; Endeavour had continued to be the adorable, inquisitive little guy Fred had met that day.

There could be no mistaking the obvious prise in Mr. Morse’s eyes and, if Fred had had any remaining prejudices about demons, they evaporated in that moment.

After that, they continued to associate, and soon enough, he and Cyril were true friends. Sometimes, if he was being honest, Cyril could be brusque and almost insulting, and he had a bit of a temper, but he always apologized.

He told him the reason on a sunny afternoon. They’d wanted to take a stroll across the park and happened across the Morses, and of course Win and Constance were already busy talking while Endeavour played not far from them. He’d managed to find a few other children, who didn’t seem to mind his eyes turning black now and then.

Cyril was watching them and sighed, “That’ll change soon enough.”

“What will?”

“Them looking past what he is and just having a good time together. Humans” he spat, then turned to Fred. “I have to apologize.”

“No need for that.” While he didn’t like being classified just like that, he had the rightful suspensions that the Morses didn’t like just being seen as demons, either.

“It’s not just…” he sighed as he watched Endeavour run around, happily laughing. “It’s the training, too.”

“Training?”

“Have you heard of the Academy?”

Of course Fred had, although what he’d heard had never gone into specifics. Mostly people just seemed glad that demons looked after their own kind.

“My parents died when I was little so I was sent there, like most orphan demons. Sayed there for five years until it was decided I wasn’t quite cut out for being a soldier”. He smiled wryly. “It wasn’t bad…. But there was such an emphasis on discipline and keeping all your emotions bottled up, I have troubled expressing or showing them even now. Thank God Constance is endlessly patient.”

Endeavour laughed again, loudly and freely.

Cyril bit his lip as Fred studied the small scar underneath his left eye he had noticed before and wondered if he’d gotten it at the Academy. “It’s actually one of my worst fears” he confided in Fred, and only later would he understand that his friend had done so because he had no one else he could tell, “That something could happen to us and that they’d just send Endeavour there. He’s such a gentle, happy boy… I don’t want that for him.”

There was little Fred could say to that. They had talked about having children eventually, but he wasn’t a father yet. Still, he could understand the need to protect one’s own. “Yes, well, it hasn’t come to that yet” he said (not knowing that soon enough, he would be looking back on this afternoon and hate himself for this, just a little) “And look… seems like they’re playing two groups against one another now. Seems to me like they need two generals to help them out… and you’ve got experience, haven’t you?”

It startled Cyril into laughter, which was one of the only reasons Fred would ever forgive himself for having dismissed his worries.

**Part Three – 1965**

To say that Peter dreaded to tell the Old Man would have been an understatement, but it had to be done; and so he all but ran to his office. “Sir!”

He looked up and immediately sprang to attention. “What is it, man?”

“Attack on the Temple.”

Peter blinked once, and he was already in his coat and putting on his hat. Thinking quickly he said, “I am driving.”

Any objections the Old Man could have had were apparently overruled by his desire to get there as quickly as possible, and he acquiesced.

Strange moved to follow them.

“An Attack on The Day Of The Fallen is a bad sign no matter what” Thursday said as soon as they were in the car, obviously forcing himself to stay calm. There will be countless people in the Temple, not just demons and their families; it’s celebrated by many creatures.”

“What exactly _is_ this holiday, sir, if you don’t mind me asking?” Strange wanted to know.

“It’s a day of remembrance of those fallen… to war, to hunger, to prejudice. Like Endeavour’s parents” he explained, guessing correctly that Jakes would have told the others what was going on.

“I see. Saying Mass, are they?”

“Something similar, Sergeant.”

Peter remembered the chanting in the Thursday house this morning, strange but beautiful in its way, and wondered how anyone could hate something born out of genuine love and grief this badly.

_But wait; don’t get ahead of yourselves. We have no idea what happened. Yet._

To Peter’s (and undoubtedly the DI’s) great relief, one of the first persons they met as they exited the car next to the Temple was Mrs. Thursday. “Fred!” she rushed over. “We’re all safe, don’t worry.”

His shoulders sagged as he took her in. “Thank the Gods. Where are they?”

“You know them. A small bomb went off; seven people got hurt, but not severely. Joan and Sam are organizing help; Endeavour is with the High Priest.”

Huh? Seemed like the oldest Thursday was a bit higher up than he had let on.

“The High Priest?” Strange asked.

“Endeavour’s pretty well known. He studied law and helped crafts the Bill of Rights” DI Thursday said quickly before drawing his wife away into a private conversation.

He really could have mentioned that earlier.

Still, they moved on.

Peter inspected the damage. Really, considering they were apparently talking about a bomb, it was minimal, and he guessed (as he would later learn, correctly) that it had been put together by someone who hadn’t done it before

DI Thursday (once he’d tried and failed to convinced Mrs. Thursday in going home; she had instead gone to help tehri younger children) led them directly to the inner chambers of The Temple, were a group of priests and the young demon Peter had known for a while and yet only just properly met today were conversing.

He was the first to perceive them. “Ah. Dad. Sergeant Jakes, Sergeant Strange.”

His black eyes were on proud display, maybe in defiance to what had happened.

The High Priest turned around. “Inspector Thursday! I wish we’d met again under better circumstances.”

“So do I” he answered with a bow, “But we have to do our job.”

“Of course. The Bill has passed; we are under the protection of the place now.”

Endeavour smiled rather proudly, but it was an achievement, Peter would grant him that.

“I know you can probably say nothing at this point, but have there been any people claiming they did it yet? Sometimes they do contact the police.”

“First we heard of the attack was the call from the Temple that reached me” Peter answered in his stead.

The High Priest nodded. “Well, it will be a relief for our people to hear that Inspector Thursday is on the case, seeing as many of them know you and your family.”

It had probably been razer unusual twenty years ago for humans to adopt a demon child. Small wonder many had heard of it.

DI Thursday nodded, accepting the compliment. “Endeavour, would you please join your siblings in reassuring everyone? Should be a good thing if it comes from a demon.”

He couldn’t quite follow his logic there, but he didn’t know much about creatures. Endeavour immediately complied, only stopping to squeeze his dad’s forearm.

“Quite a talented young man” the High Priest observed as soon as the door had closed behind him.

Peter, feeling that he would perhaps be most comfortable being interviewed by the Old Man, asked, “Should we and Strange begin with the interviews, sir?”

“Yes; and enlist a few bobbies to help you. Day like this, the Temple is full.”

He nodded, then they walked back into the big hall.

“Have to say, didn’t expect that. The Old Man in his prime. Anyone who’s done that should beware, especially since he could have harmed his family.”

Silently, Peter agreed. Out loud he said, “Better get these bobbies soon so we can find out who saw something and who didn’t”.

Strange nodded.

* * *

By the time the bobbies arrived, the Thursdays had already calmed down most of the witnesses and come up with a schedule to interview them based on who was more nervous than others.

If he hadn’t seen the black eyes of their oldest, Peter would have wondered if coppering was hereditary.

* * *

Most of them, it quickly turned out, had seen nothing. They had been busy performing the rites, and suddenly there had been an explosion.

If someone had planted the bomb, undoubtedly someone would have stumbled over it before the detonation, since the Temple had indeed been full; and Peter quickly came to the conclusion that who had perpetrated the attack had meant to throw it into the midst of creatures but hadn’t quite managed to do so. They had been lucky.

The more nervous of the creatures, it quickly transpired, rather liked to have Endeavour Thursday to support them as they gave their testimony; and since Peter found him efficient, friendly and honest, he had little trouble with that.

It’s when one of the phoenixes turned to him and said, “Oh Mr. Thursday… and I haven’t seen Mr. Silas anywhere!” that his eyebrows rose. “He hasn’t been around?”

She shook her head.

“Who?” Peter asked.

“A clockmaker and tinkerer of sorts. He goes to the Temple every day. It seems very much unlike him not to come on a day like this, especially since he’s a creature of habit – he would have been sitting two rows behind Mrs. Oliver here.”

It wasn’t much, but it was a strange coincidence, and Peter had learned not to trust those. He made a note.

While they were waiting for the next witness he said, “So you helped drafts the Bill?”

“I worked on it with several others, yes” he replied. “Really, I couldn’t have done it without lots of help.”

And yet he had done it. “Still, it’s a big step.”

“As long as no one has to suffer the fate of my birth parents, it’s worth it” he said frankly. “I got lucky; if Mum and Dad hadn’t adopted me, I would by now be a member of the demonic Army protecting the world from its biggest supernatural threats. Not that that would have been a bad thing” he hastened to add, “But I rather –“

“I get it. Believe me.” Having grown up without a loving family, Peter could easily tell that it was infinitely better to have one.

“Oh.”

When he looked back at Endeavour, the usual almost insulting pity was missing. It was strangely comforting.

“I guess we better send Bobbies to Mr. Silas’ house” he quickly recovered, “Just to make sure.”

Endeavour nodded, and he belatedly realized he had talked to him like he would the Old Man, but he couldn’t help it – they were very alike in some ways; the no-nonsense in which they approached problems, the kind if somewhat brusque tone of voice when speaking to someone afflicted, the obvious desire to make things right.

Nature vs nurture indeed.

“Now, now, Mrs. Snider” Endeavour began to console a woman who was by now looking for a handkerchief, and Peter decided he might as well go and brief the Old Man.

He, of course knew immediately who he was talking about. “Silas not showing up? That’s a first.”

“I told Strange on my way, sir. Couple of bobbies should be there soon.”

He nodded.

It was half an hour later that one of the other bobbies hailed him. He quickly went to the car and took the walkie-talkie.

Then he went to find Inspector Thursday. “Silas is dead” he told him quietly. “Murder, it seems.”

“Alright. Better check it out”. He’d always been rather secretive when it came to things like this, at least so Peter believed, although as he went to tell his family he was going, he definitely told them what was going on. So much for the hat stand rule. Seemed they had all been playing a little game all along.

Well, with all the prejudices going around, Peter couldn’t say he blamed them.

It was when they arrived at the scene that things went awry.

DI Thursday took one look at the body – Doctor DeBryn was already examining it – and paled.

“Sir?”

“The last time I saw throats cut in this manner” he answered slowly, “was over twenty years ago. That’s just how – that’s just how Endeavour’s parents looked when I found them.”

**Part Four – 1938**

They didn’t really make a conscious decision to keep Endeavour, at least they never spoke of it. But that terrible night, Win gently bathed him, then put him to bed, or rather went to bed with him, since he persisted in clinging to her, and Fred couldn’t find it in his heart to separate them, rather climbing in with them to hold them and keep them safe.

The next morning, Endeavour was still subdued and confused, but evidently felt safe with them and especially Win, so he let them to find out more.

There was very little to go on, he soon realized. The bodies had been burned badly, and any evidence left had been destroyed by water.

Its didn’t help that many of his colleagues seemed not to be very eager to get the investigation going properly.

Fred, still thinking of Cyril’s and Constance’s unseeing eyes, of her sending her child to their friends for safety, of the horror that must have been their last moments, went to DCS Morland, but found no sympathy.

“Thursday, I know this happened in your street, but really, we both know there’s little chance we will ever get however did this. These hate groups are well-organized, and you know their members move around all the time. Or this could just be the work of a lunatic. We’ll most likely never know.”

He knew it was true, and he hated it.

And then there was the other reason he wasn’t ready for a fight.

He had told no one that Endeavour was with them. Thankfully no one had seen him slip to their place, and for now he was considered missing. Most assumed the killer had simply done away with him too and taken the body for whatever reason, maybe because he’d been the smallest one.

Fred was painfully aware that, should his presence become known, there was little he could do to keep him safe. The killer had already come to their street once, and what would most of the police men who didn’t care about demons do for Endeavour?

He sighed as he walked back to his desk. That was all he could do now – try everything to keep him safe. That was all he was able to think of.

And so when he arrived home that evening, he found Win reading to Endeavour on the couch. He’d climbed into her lap and was intently looking at the pictures, frowning with concentration.

Childhood tears. Soon to be spilled, soon forgotten because he didn’t understand yet. He didn’t realize that he’d never see his parents again. For all he knew, they’d sent him over for a visit and would come to get him sooner rather than later.

He suddenly remembered Cyril’s face as he watched him play that day in the park and swallowed.

Win looked up and smiled. “Hello, love.”

“Oy, Pet. Endeavour.”

“Good evenin’ Mr. Thursday” he replied the way he had been taught and Fred stepped up to him.

“Did you have a nice day with Mrs. Thursday?”

“Yes! We had sandwiches for lunch an’ for tea I got biscuits and Mrs. Thursday’s been reading me stories..:”

How easy the world of a child could look, Fred thought, almost envying him the ability to forget, if only for a short time.

It was when he asked “Have you seen Mummy and Daddy?” that his heart broke all over again.

“Not today, Endeavour, I was working.”

He nodded. “Did you get the bad guy?” He knew something had happened, although he didn’t understand what that meant.

“Not yet” he forced out. _I’m sorry Constance; I’m sorry Cyril. I want nothing more than to catch the bastard, but I have to keep Endeavour safe. You trusted us with him, and we have to look after him._

“Let’s have dinner, then” Win decided and carried Endeavour to the kitchen.

They had a pleasant meal, even if Fred found it difficult to swallow as he watched Endeavour happily eat and smile at them. _Only too soon, when he understands, he’s not going to smile anymore. Not for a long time, and never that innocently ever again._

Win guessed his thoughts, for she took his hand and squeezed it.

That night, she read him to sleep while Fred stood in the door, looking at the make-shift bed she had constructed for him in their spare room.

When she was done with the story, she gently kissed the forehead of what Fred assumed was by now a fast asleep boy, but he stirred once more. “Good night Mrs. Thursday.”

“Good night Endeavours.”

“Mr. Thursday?” And he realized, touched, that he wanted to say good night to him, too; and so he kissed his forehead as well.

Win got them drinks and sat him down on the sofa. “Tell me everything.”

Normally he would have avoided talking about work but he couldn’t do so now. She deserved to know everything.

“Oh Fred” she said when he had finished, “How awful! Constance and Cyril are dead and – and –“

“I know” he sighed. “But we have to focus on the living. Endeavour’s position is dangerous enough as it is, and it’s not like he can look after himself.”

“That’s what we’re for” she said.

He could only agree.

* * *

He hadn’t been asleep long when he became aware of a presence in their bedroom and shot up, only to relax when he recognized the small frame. “Endeavour?”

“I’m sorry Mr. Thursday I – I – “ he could her his voice tremble in a way that promised a cry, and Fred hastened to get out of bed and scoop him into his arms before taking him to the kitchen. He might not have made much experience with comforting children, but really, he knew Endeavour. “How about a nice glass of milk?”

He nodded against his shoulder, shivering in his arms. He wasn’t cold, though; no, he was trying to hock the tears in.

Fred gently put him down on a chair. “There you go”. He wiped his face. “All better now.”

He went to get the milk. When he gave it to Endeavours, he carefully cradled the cup and admitted “I woke up an’ I got – I got scared.”

“That’s normal” he reassured him.

No answer at first. Then, suddenly, quietly, “Mummy and Daddy are not coming back.”

He didn’t know how he had figured it out. There was nothing he could say.

Unless he looked up at him and asked, “Did I do something bad?”

Oh; he thought they’d left him, that it was his fault. Fred sat down and drew him into his lap. “Now” he said, hoping he sounded firm without being intimidating, “This is _not_ your fault, Endeavour, alright? Your parents didn’t want to leave. They had to. They would never have left you behind otherwise.”

He looked at him with eyes that were already a bit too knowing for a small child, eyes that understood part of what was going on and that the world was a rather more terrifying place than he’d thought previously. Then, feebly, “Promise?”

“Yes. I promise.”

He nodded and went back to carefully sipping his milk.

Afterwards, Fred couldn’t bring himself to put him back to bed, so him took him to theirs.

When he woke up the next morning, he was alone, but soon found Win and Endeavour in the kitchen, the later apparently not the worse for wear for their night time adventure as he was drawing.

Win kissed Fred Good morning with a smile on her face. “He told men” she said quietly. “Oh Fred.”

“I know.”

Then, while an oblivious Endeavour was only too happily eating the toast Win had cut into small pieces for him, they made plans.

Since his home had gone up in flames, he needed pretty much everything, so the next Saturday, Fred stayed home with Endeavour while Win went into another part of town to quickly buy him a few essentials.

Endeavour, Fred found out over the course of this afternoon, really was a rather well-raised child, but that didn’t make him any less endearing. He was curious and inquisitive, loved books and music, and only regretted that they couldn’t go to the park but immediately stopped asking when Fred told him so.

They had yet to figure out what to do about it all, but one thing was certain – they couldn’t just leave him out there in the world on his own.

* * *

The decision was made for them, or rather, had already been made for them. But no; Fred would later think that they would have done the same, had they known or not.

It had been a week since the Morse’s flat went up in flames, and they had already developed something like a routine. They had something that felt suspiciously like family breakfast before Fred would go to work and pretend, he didn’t care, he’d come home to Win being busy with Endeavour, but usually with an indulgent smile on her face unless she happened to think of Constance and Cyril. Endeavour clung to them for safety and reassurance, and was as polite and friendly as he had ever been.

Somehow, it already felt like it had always been this way, which was impossible, but somewhat… nice at the same time.

If only it hadn’t come at the cost of his parents’ lives. Fred thought about them a lot, and knew that Win did the same. Sometimes, Endeavour said something that reminded him strangely of Cyril, and of course he did have Constance’s eyes and colouring.

It was Sunday afternoon. Endeavour was playing with blocks Fred had gotten for him during the week when he’d had to do an interview in a distant quarter of town. If you asked him, some of the stacks he made were a little complicated considering his age, but maybe he was biased.

Endeavour, he would later realize, already felt so much like their own.

Someone rang the doorbell and he allowed Win to get it, as always sitting down next to Endeavour to ensure he stayed quiet.

It was when Win called out” Fred, could you come here for a moment?” that he realized something was wrong.

He ran his fingers through Endeavour’s hair and told him to wait for them before getting up.

He came to the door and found a man and a woman stand there. “Yes?”

“Inspector Fred Thursday?”

“Yes.”

“I am Violet Farber, and this is Theodor Tattler.” Their eyes turned back and he realized they were demons. “We have reason to believe that the boy Endeavour Morse, son of the recently deceased Cyril and Constance Morse, is with you.”

“Is that so.”

She smiled a reassuring smile. “We have ways to find our own. It’s hardly surprising that you didn’t know how to hide his presence.”

“I see.” He moved closer to Win.

“Now, the first thing you have to understand is that we only want what’s best for Endeavour. As far as we know, you were friends with the parents, and you have extended kindness to one of ours when he needed it the most. The gratitude of our community is yours.”

“It was what anyone would have done” Win chimed in.

Her smile faltered. “No it isn’t” she said somewhat sadly. “So, if you could get Endeavour…”

“What are you planning on doing?” Fred wanted to know.

She blinked, then recovered. “You have heard of the Academy?”

“Yes” he said, something cold trickling down his spine as he recalled what Cyril had told him.

Win, who he’d let know as well, immediately asked “How about you come in and I make us a nice cup of tea?”

They seemed surprised that she’d just invite in a couple of demons but agreed.

When they entered, Endeavour looked up, saw the strangers and quickly ran over to Win to cling to her.

“Endeavour” she said gently, stroking his har. “These are Miss Farber and Mr. Tattler. You remember what Mummy told you to do when you meet someone new?”

He nodded somewhat shyly and stepped slightly away from her to shake their hands.

Miss Farber smiled, clearly impressed. “Aren’t you a polite little boy.” She turned to Win. “I appreciate your offer of tea, but really, we should be going, so if you would please get his things?”

Endeavour had already proven to be a brightchild, and so it was no surprise to Fred when he suddenly found him hugging his legs tightly. “They are going to take me ‘way” he mumbled against his trousers. “Like Mummy and Daddy.”

“Now, now” he said firmly. “We wouldn’t allow that, would we, Win.”

“Of course not, dear”. She kneeled down and ran her fingers through his hair. “We wouldn’t allow you to come to harm Endeavour, you have to believe that.”

He blinked at her, tears in his eyes. “Then why do I have to go away?”

“It’s a school, Endeavour” Miss Farber explained simply. “You’d learn how to behave, and what to do –“

“I know how to behave. Mummy taught me. An’ Mrs. Thursday has been telling me an’ stuff.”

“And I am sure doing an admirable job doing so” she replied. “But you see, there are things you need to learn… Things your parents would have wanted you to know. Certainly you want to be a good boy and make them proud?”

That was a little bit too manipulative for Fred’s liking, even if it went over Endeavour’s head. The child simply nodded.

“So why don’t you stop crying and be brave for your Mummy and Daddy?” Tattler suggested. It was the first time he had spoken.

And to Fred’s dismay, he drew himself up as straight as he could and actually tried to school his expressions while whipping his eyes with his fists.

What Cyril had told him that day in the park came back to him.

_“It’s actually one of my worst fears. That something could happen to us and that they’d just send Endeavour there. He’s such a gentle, happy boy… I don’t want that for him.”_

“So, his things…” Miss Farber began again.

“Now wait just a minute” he said. “We’ve been taking care of him –“

“Yes, and like I said, the gratitude of the –“

“We don’t want thanks. I don’s see any reason to send him away to the Academy when he’s happy with us.”

“It’s tradition…”

It was then that Win spoke, quietly but firmly. “Constance sent him to us. She wanted us to look after him.”

“But certainly only for a –“ she suddenly stopped talking and stared at them. “What exactly did she say?”

Fred had no idea why that was important, but Win immediately turned to Endeavour. “Dear, do you remember what Mummy told you when she sent you to me that day?”

He frowned in concentration. “She said... there were weird noises an’ I was really scared an’ she said I shouldn’t be. An’ then she said “Goo an’ find Mrs. Thursday. She an’ her husband will look after you while we can’t, Endeavour.” He stared crying again. “An’ then she hugged me an’ told me everything was going to be alright, but it’s not.”

“Oh Endeavour”. Win pulled him into her arms.

The two demons looked at one another. “May we repair to your kitchen for a moment? Things appear to be more complicated than we thought” Miss Farber asked.

Fred nodded and watched them retreat as Win gently sat down Endeavour on the sofa and started cleaning his face.

“I don’t wanna leave” he said sadly.

“Then you don’t have to” she assured him, “Right, Fred?”

“Yes” he found himself saying, looking at the picture before him.

_Just like Constance used to be with him._

No – no – they couldn’t allow him to go there where they would train his smiles and his laughter and his childish joys out of him.

They returned. “It appears” Miss Farber announced, “That there is a sacred trust here.”

“A sacred trust?”

“Would you happen to know if the Morses were of traditional demonic beliefs?”

It was Endeavour who answered. “Mummy took me to the Temple now an’ then. Daddy didn’ go but didn’ stop us.”

“So Mrs. Morse believed. That decides it.”

“I’m not sure, Violet…”

“It’s a sacred trust. We can’t interfere with a sacred trust.”

“Sorry, but would you mind terribly…” Fred began.

“Of course. But first I have to ask a question, and I need for a truthful answer.” She looked at both of them in turn. “Would you be ready to accept Endeavour into your life permanently? To be parents to an orphaned demon?”

Were they ready? Fred hadn’t thought about it.

And then he realized with a start he hadn’t thought about it because the thought of Endeavour leaving hadn’t crossed his mind since they had taken him in.

He looked at Win, who was holding the boy; he’d buried his hand in her shoulder.

She met his gaze.

Then they both nodded and he turned to the demons. “Yes.”

“To guard him from harm, to protect him, to teach him all he needs to know?”

He had no idea what that was, but they would find out. “Yes.”

“Then that’s everything.”

“No” Win said, “Not everything.” She stroked his hair. “We’ll love him, too.”

Miss Farber smiled. “Excellent.” She turned to Fred. “A sacred trust is… well, sacred in our culture. Mrs. Morse entrusted you with her most precious charge on this earth. We do not have the power to take him away from you.” She grew serious. “You are, of course, aware that this will not be easy. There are things he needs to learn about our culture.”

“We’ll learn them with him” Win breathed. “I’ll read every book that’s necessary, I will see that he doesn’t forget his parents. I promise.”

They were rushing into this, yet at the same time it felt incredibly right. “I am sure there are enough demons who would help us out, right?” Fred asked.

“Of course. We wouldn’t let one of our own alone” she agreed. “Now, though…” She went to the sofa and asked, “Endeavour?”

He raised his head.

“Do you want to say with Mrs. and Mr. Thursday instead of going away to school?”

His face lit up. “I can stay?”

She smiled again. “That clears that up. I would, however, like a word with you before we go, Mr. Thursday.”

He realized she meant away from prying young ears and they returned to the kitchen.

“I do not mean to alarm you” she began. “But it would be wise to consider a relocation.”

Fred nodded; he had thought the same. Endeavour wasn’t safe here, not when his parents had already been killed. “Any suggestions?”

She seemed surprised to find him so amenable. “There are several places that are more welcoming towards demons and humans alike. Old cities that have learned how to live with magic and the supernatural.” After a pause she added, “I think Oxford would be the best choice.”

“Oxford it is, then, if I can get a transfer.”

“I told you, Inspector – we look after our own. You will.”

He nodded. They then walked out into the living room, where Endeavour, now that the panic that he might be taken away had subsided, was dozing off in Win’s harm while she hummed a lullaby for him.

Miss Farber gave the two a genuine smile as she bid them all goodbye. “We understand now, believe me, and we will report to the Council. Inspector, we’ll be in touch concerning what we’ve talked about.”

As soon as they were gone Win began “What –“

“Let’s put the little man to bed” he said, putting a hand on Endeavour’s back, “And then we’ll talk.”

It was at this moment that Fred Thursday realized they were now and forever a family.

**Part Five – 1965**

The Old Man was concise and to the point at the pub they had repaired to; there was little else for them to do at the moment, since they had to allow Doctor DeBryn to do his job. “I ran in, of course.”

As if everyone would just drop everything to try and save their demonic neighbours.

“I found them rather quickly. They were lying close to open another; I think, when push came to shove, they’d rather die fighting side by side than apart.” He paused as he seemed to remember that day, then shook his head. “Sorry.”

“It can’t have been easy” Peter supplied.

“It wasn’t. Constance was such a friend of Win’s, and I quite liked Cyril, even if he was a little sullen now and then. And I couldn’t find Endeavour. I was sure he was at least suffocating from the smoke if not dead already. You cannot imagine how relieved I felt when I found him with Win.”

“Clever little guy, obeying his mother like that at five years old.”

“Yes, he was” DI Thursday agreed. “Afterwards, I tried my best… not that I could do much. I was still a Constable back in those days, and of course feelings against demons were even higher than they are today. And I had to consider Endeavour. Couldn’t afford to raise any suspicions. And the war was about to begin. It was all I could do to install Win and Endeavour in Oxford before it broke out.” He sighed. “Not that any of that is an excuse.”

Peter begged to differ, but was rather sure the Old Man wouldn’t listen even if he told him. “And there was never a suspect?”

The DI Shrugged. “None to speak of. I listened to the gossip of course, but apart from being demons, it’s difficult to imagine Cyril and Constance doing anything to arouse resentment. They just wanted a quiet life and raise their boy.”

“And he grew up to help co-write the Bill of Rights” Peter reminded him, relieved when he once more saw Thursday’s proud smile.

“Oy. I always suspected he’d go for the arts – you should hear him sing – or maybe read Greats, but he insisted on law. I assume he’ll be taking more pro bono cases than anything else.”

“Will you tell him?” Petr asked suddenly. He had never had a family that he could remember; but it would be a shame to see one as close-knit as the Thursdays strained under this.

He frowned. “I have to. He knows all about how his parents died, of course; told him once he was old enough. And I am certain he’d like to see their killer brought down, even if he doesn’t have many recollections of them.” He sighed. “Thank God they had a few creature friends who had pictures and mementoes. Win wrote to them all so she could keep them for him.”

They really had gone in for a penny, in for a pound – and they must have been around Peter’s own age when they had done so. And yet whenever he spoke of it, Thursday sounded matter-of-fact, as if he couldn’t imagine taking another path.

“We need to work on this quickly though – whoever did this isn’t likely to quit. We got lucky this time.”

Yes, indeed; peter didn’t want to imagine what he would have done if any member of his family had been injured.

“I’ll tell Doctor DeBryn about the old case once the preliminary examinations are done so he can get the file and compare the two. Not that there will be much to find. The fire…” He sighed. “In hindsight, I have often wished I had a closer look around.”

While the fire was burning?

“Sir” he began carefully, “I mean no disrespect, but are you absolutely sure…”

“Oh I know I should technically recuse myself, but I am the local creature expert, and more than that.” His face darkened. “Cyril and Constance were not just Endeavour’s parents. They were our friends. And I already let them down once.”

Peter thought that any letting down had certainly been made away with by taking in and raising their child, but there was little he could do to persuade him of that.

And so they silently finished their lunch.

* * *

There was much to do in the wake of the attack, and Endeavour had been on the phone for hours now. He hung up with Madam Secretary and sighed, glancing at the watch. Two o’ clock. If he didn’t have his sandwich soon, he’d get another lecture from Mum.

A knock on his door, however, prevented him from doing so, and he sighed as he called for them to enter.

“Dad?” he frowned. “You look drawn-out.”

“I was about to tell you the same” he said with a smile, their reputation as the family’s workaholics having been established long ago.

But Endeavour hadn’t lived under the Thursdays’ roof for almost thirty years at this point without getting to know his adopted parents very well indeed. “What is wrong?” If something else had happened, they would have to act immediately; dispatch help, let the healers in hospital know, make certain the public was informed cautiously –

Dad laid a hand on his arm, and he knew form the expression on his face that this was personal. “We should sit down, son.”

They did.

* * *

He could only stare at him. “Mr. Silas? Murdered?” He had quite liked the old gentleman – on his eighteenth, Mum and Dad had gifted him with a watch made by him that he had been wearing every day since then and was doing so now. “But –“

“There’s more” Dad rushed out. “I – I saw the body. His throat had been cut.”

And he understood. “Like my parents.” His eyes wandered to the picture he kept of them right next to the one of his adoptive family on his desk. He had often marvelled at how well Mum and Dad had succeeded in keeping their memory green while taking him in as truly one of their won. “I’m sorry.” He knew Dad still suffered from having found them that night.

“None of that. It’s not your fault. But I wanted you to know, before anyone talks to the press.”

Endeavour didn’t remember much of that night. He remembered being hugged by his mummy for the very last time, and stumbling along to the Thursdays’; he remembered clinging to who would eventually become his Mum; and only feeling really safe again once both of them were holding him. But those were short impressions, quickly gathered by a small child who had no idea what was going on at the time; and he would have freely admitted to anyone that the memories weren’t ones he cared to revisit. “And you think it’s the same killer?”

“I have no reason other than the wound to think so, but I can feel it in my bones.”

They were silent for a moment, then Dad announced, “And by the Gods, I will find them this time.”

“Don’t do it for me, Dad. Or for revenge.”

“I am afraid that’s out of the question, Endeavour.”

He knew it was; of course he knew. In a way, Mum and Dad had been hit with the tragedy far worse than he had, mostly because they had shielded him Frome everything and eagerly provided for the losses he had had.

He did his best to look at it form an objective point of view. “Do you think the murder is linked to the attack?”

“We have it on good authority that he was the one who must have built the bomb.”

“It seems very unlikely… You know how strong his beliefs were. He went to the Temple every day.” Endeavour shook his head. “I can’t believe that he would willingly do anything to destroy its.”

“What kind of person was he?” Dad asked. “I know you approached him when you were crafting the Bill because he was regarded well in the community.”

That was true; and adding to this, Endeavour had known him almost as long as he could remember, since he was a conspicuous figure on the streets. However –

“He wasn’t very enthusiastic about it.” Dad would know him well enough to realize it was an understatement, had watched him come home dejected and despairing several times, in fact. There had been moments when he hadn’t believed in the Bill anymore, and all he’d had to hold on had been his family’s support. “He was old-fashioned. Said that humans wouldn’t learn, no matter what we did. He relented someone when I mention you, though.”

One of the reasons his opinions had been respected despite his comparative youth had been Mum and Dad, and how readily they had accepted him into their lives; even their friendship with his birth parents was a well-established fact and had given hope to many.

“But he didn’t appear particularly hostile?”

“No. If anything, he was eager as usual to get back to work. There was a new project he wanted to…” he trailed off. “Maybe that was how they managed it.”

“Managed what?”

“He might have been given a challenge, you know. Create a bomb that was light to transport and would have devastating consequences… he only lived for his work and the Temple. He wouldn’t have realized that they were planning anything.”

Dad nodded. “That makes sense. What about your end?”

Endeavour sighed, remembering his sandwich once more. “I don’t deny that the Council is rather nervous, but they suggested a compromise…”

At least he was aware that Dad would approve, if only because he would be given the chance to keep an eye on him.

**Part Six – 1938**

Miss Farber had spoken the truth. Within a few weeks of them showing up at their home, Fred had been transferred to the Oxford City Police; and Win suspected that the demons’ influence was responsible with the pay raise that came with it and the offer of a small house for little rent they received as well.

They moved as soon as they could, being driven to Oxford under the cover of darkness by a chauffeur who had shown up on the day they had chosen, proving the demons were still keeping an eye on them.

Endeavour was a little confused as to what was going on, but trusted them enough to follow Win quietly into the car and fall asleep in her arms on the way.

She kissed his curls, swearing to herself (and to Constance, God bless her) that she would do anything in her power to keep their boy safe.

After grey and dark London, Oxford in the spring was a revelation. Then again, maybe London had only turned into this in her eyes after Cyril and Constance had been murdered without a reason.

When Endeavour woke up in the new house – shortly after Fred had gone to check out Cowley station – he immediately bumbled down into the kitchen. “Good morning, Mrs. Thursday.”

“Good morning, Endeavour.” She and Fred had hatched a plan, and Miss Farber had just called to let them know that someone would drop by “in the afternoon”, so after she had made sure he had breakfast, she sat down next of him and began, “Endeavour, I need you to listen to me very carefully, alright?”

He nodded, still nibbling his toast. She smiled.

“Now, the first thing you have to know is that we are complete safe here. The bad men who came to take your mummy and daddy away won’t find us.” It wasn’t a promise she could keep, but she didn’t want him to grow up afraid.

He nodded.

“But there are some… precautions we have to take.”

“What are pre-cau-shioons, Mrs. Thursday?”

“Means there are things we need to do to make sure we keep safe.”

He thought about it, then swallowed the rest of his toasrt and nodded again.

“Now, whenever there’s a chance that someone could hear us – like when we got out shopping, or to the park – you’ll have to call us Mum and Dad.”

He frowned. “But that’ be lyin’.”

She swallowed down the hurt she unexpectedly felt. “Not in this case. It’s to keep us all safe.”

“Is that a pre-cau-shion?”

“Yes.” And in a moment of daring she added, “And really, when we’re alone, you can call us anything you want.” _Even Mum and Dad, should you choose to, one day._

He nodded again, although he appeared a little confused.

“And this afternoon, two other demons are coming to visit us, to make this whole move a little easier” she continued, “But you’re staying with us, no matter what happens, you have to remember that.”

He suddenly climbed down his chair and into her lap, hugging her. “Yes, Mrs. Thursday. I wanna stay.”

“You will. I can promise you that.” She kissed his head again.

* * *

Fred had decided that they would have to hit the ground running; and so, when Inspector Owens asked, “You a married man?” he could reply evenly. “Yes. We just moved here with our boy. Figured it’d be a better place for him to grow up.”

He hummed. “How old?”

“Five, sir.”

“Cute age. Sometimes I still miss being able to pick the kiddies up.”

He nodded. Cute age. And yet, what he had been through… He cleared his throat. “As a matter of fact, sir, I would like to pop home for a while in the afternoon –“

“You’re not scheduled to behind working here until the day after tomorrow anyway. Might as well look after your missus and your little chap.”

“Sir.”

 _Your little chap_. It felt almost too right already.

He arrived home to find Win humming to herself as she made lunch, with Endeavour drawing something on paper. “Hey, you” he said, ruffling his hair, then squinted. “Is that our new house?”

“Yes, Mr Thursday!” he beamed.

It didn’t really look that different from kids drawings Fred had seen, but who cared, as long as Endeavour was smiling.

“They said they’d arrive around two, so I thought we’d have lunch rather early” Win confided in him. “Endeavour is really enjoying his new room, and the garden.”

He would; after all, they had been forced to keep him inside in London, lest anyone wonder where their child came from so suddenly.

“Oh, and by the way, we’ll have to tell people we were childhood sweethearts or something like that” she suddenly said, “Otherwise they’ll wonder why we got married so soon.”

Fred glanced at Endeavour.

“Not that I’d mind” she said simply guessing his thoughts, as usual, “Really, who cares, as long as our boy’s happy. But people might think ill of him for it – you know how they are.”

“I think there are other reasons…” he mumbled, seeing as Endeavour’s eyes had once more turned black as they were wont to do since he had yet to learn to hide them.

“That’s because most people can be rather stupid” she said firmly. He could only agree with her.

* * *

The demons, who introduced themselves as Mrs. McEwan and Miss Brown, were punctual. Endeavour greeted them politely then went to cuddle close to Win on the sofa.

Mrs. McEwan smiled, obviously pleased with what she saw. “I can tell your bond is already strong.”

“Mum’s been lookin’ after me” he mumbled against her blouse, “An’ Dad’s keeping us safe.” Something in Fred sang out. Apparently he had taken Win’s warning, which she had told him about during lunch, to heart.

“That’s always good to know, Endeavour” she said quietly then turned to Fred to inquire about their boy more specifically while Miss Brown chatted with him and Win to distract them. “Has he had any nightmares? Any sudden spells of his powers trying to wreak havoc?”

“Not at all. Well, a few nightmares, but – his powers? I thought they were only supposed to come later.”

“Normally that would be the case but when demons lose their parents early, it can happen. However, with him being so well taken care of, I highly doubt you have to worry about anything of that kind.”

Good. Not that Fred would have blamed him, but it would be rather inconvenient to explain to the neighbours why all the windows in the street had shattered or something like that.

“Now. Endeavour is five, which means he should start school in a few months.”

He nodded.

“Here” she passed him a few folders. “We have long since assembled a list of schools who welcome creatures and humans alike. Oxford, thankfully, is a rather accepting city, so everything should be fine. There are special classes for different creatures, that would teach Endeavour how to hide his eyes and powers when the time comes. For now, though…” she fished three small vials out of her pocket. “If you are sure you want to keep him…”

“Absolutely.”

“Then this potion, if you three drink it, will ensure that no one who you don’t want to know becomes aware Endeavour is a demon. They will think of him as your oldest child.”

Oldest. That sounded nice. Fred took them. “Thank you –“

“On the contrary, it is us who must thank you. Endeavour is lucky he found someone to take him in so quickly.”

“He’s been as good as gold” Fred said, being interrupted by the light laughter of the child they were speaking of. They turned to look at him; as always, he was close to Win, but happily chattering to Miss Brown. Fred smiled.

“He is strong” she said quietly, also smiling, “And he has a good heart.”

“Like his parents, then.”

“Both set of them, I would be ready to say” she said simply. “We’ll be off, then.”

They took the potion together that night after dinner; it tasted salty, like the ocean, but Fred didn’t feel a thing. Maybe, he thought as he watched Win and Endeavour dance around to the radio, that was for the best.

* * *

Win had never dreamed that they would end up in their own house so soon. Just such a short time ago, she had been a newlywed in a small flat; and now she was a mother in a place of their very own.

She had sworn to herself that she would do everything she could to help make Endeavour grow into the undoubtedly wonderful man he would become, even if Constance and Cyril would not be there to see it; and so when, on a normal week day when Fred had already left the house earlier than usual due to a case, she went to collect Endeavour for breakfast and found that he had been crying and was trying to hide it, she immediately took him into her arms. “What is it” she asked as gently as she could, “What is groping on, sweetheart?”

“I – I –“ he sniffed. “I was tryin’ to say the prayers for the dep – dep –“

“Departed?” she suggested.

He nodded against her. “So Mummy and Daddy will be blessed by the Gods, and they’ll be nice to them. But I don’ know the words anymore.”

“I am sure we can find out” she said mildly.

“Yes?” he asked, sounding so hopeful it broke her heart.

“Fog course. Now what about breakfast?”

As soon as he was busy with his toast, she went to the phone and called the number Mrs. McEwan had given her. She was very friendly and told her what to do and where to go.

That afternoon, she took Endeavour to the address she had been given. It was a small shop that didn’t have anything particularly demonic about it; but when she entered, she immediately spied the black eyes of the woman behind the desk. She probably had them out to put her clients at ease.

Win was careful not to show any far as she approached her, holding Endeavour’s hand. “Good afternoon” she said politely. “This address was given to me by a Mrs. McEwan.”

“Oh” the woman, who had studied her rather suspiciously, “You must be Mrs. Thursday then; she called.” She smiled at the by. “You are Endeavour?”

“Yes, Miss” he said. “Mum’s taking’ me on a shopping trip.”

Still following their orders, and yet it made Win feel rather possessive.

“Now why don’t you apply yourself to that...” she produced something that looked like a small board with coloured pieces in it and Endeavour’s eyes lit up.

“Thank you, Miss!”

She led him to a small table and chair that had been placed near the desk, undoubtedly so children could be kept quietly engaged while their parents did the shopping.

“It’s a traditional demon game” she explained when she returned, “It’s meant to help with movements and logical thinking, but I remember mostly liking the colours.”

Win nodded. “thank you.”

“Don’t mention it. Now, if I understand correctly, you wish to say the prayers for the departed with Endeavour?”

She nodded again. “The last thing I want is for him to forget the religion of his parents; his mother was a believer. She left him to us as a sacred trust.”

“So I heard.”

They must be talked of in demon circles, Win realized. “Yes, so… how does this work? I’m, afraid I have no idea.”

“Well, the best cause of action would probably be to get a small house altar. Most believers do. That way, he could say not only the prayers for his parents, but any other he wished to. And I’ve got a few prayer books right here – they explain enough, so you should be fine.”

“Oh thank you so much. What do I owe you?”

“You have already settled your bill” she told her, her eyes lingering on Endeavour.

“But…”

“Normally when demon children lose their parents that way, they… lose their own for a while. And yet here he is, playing. Please – we owe you.”

“If you say so” she said, sounding rather emotional, she was sure, “But would it be possible for at least buy the game? He seems to be enjoying it.-“

“Undoubtedly he had one at home. Can’t recall anyone who didn’t play it at some point. Of course.”

And so they soon left the shop with everything they needed to ensure Constance’s and Cyril’s memory was kept fresh.

It still broke Win’s heart a little when she left Endeavour to play and went through the books to find that normally, one would put pictures of their lost loved ones on the altar. She would write to London, she decided, and see if anyone had any of their friends.

She was very careful when putting up the altar in the living room., She didn’t want Endeavour to think that it didn’t look right and that therefore his parents’ memory wasn’t being honoured – everything had to be perfect.

If either of them felt dissatisfied, she decided, she would call Mrs. McEwan again, make sure everything was fine.

When she was done, she called for Endeavour, who came immediately. His little face lit up. “That’s just like the one we had at home!”

“I’m glad” she said honestly. “And now, here – I think I’ve found the correct prayer – would you like saying it with me?”

If he had insisted on doing so alone, she would have let him, of course (while staying close; well-raised he may have been, but he was still only five) but he nodded enthusiastically.

Really, the prayers weren’t that different from those Win had known since childhood. Granted, she had never prayed in front of a house altar, but the rest – peace on their souls, may they live in splendour with the Gods, and such – was more or less what you’d expect. And yet, when they were done, Endeavour looked… almost serene. As if a weight he had been too young to articulate had been lifted off his shoulders.

Suddenly, he hugged her, burying his face in her hip. “Thank you, Mrs. Thursday.”

“Oh Endeavour, you’re very welcome. They were my friends too, you know”. She ran her fingers through his curls, wondering how anyone could look at him and wish him harm.

* * *

Fred came home that day to a surprise, since he’d barely made it over the threshold before Endeavour took his hand to show him the altar Win had put in the living room. Sensing that he wanted to show off a little, he asked enough questions to satisfy even the most curious child. He’d never been much of a religious man himself, but if it made him feel at home…

Win told him much the same later that night, after they had put him to bed. “I don’t want to make it seem like I’m just play-acting” she fretted a little, “But the last thing I want for him is to forget where he comes from.”

“He won’t, pet, we’ll see to that” he promised.

“The lady in the shop was nice enough; and she was so very helpful. I am certain that I can ask her for directions whenever we need them.”

It was a beginning.

**Part Seven – 1965**

From what Peter understood, Endeavour Thursday was supposed to be a sort of liaison; apparently the Council had suggested it because of his unique position of already having been given both a demonic and a human upbringing, although how the Thursdays had managed that in addition to everything else would always remain a mystery to him.

Still, here he was, the oldest Thursday child, making himself at home at a desk near his dad’s office.

He probably wanted to be able to check up on him at all times, and with the apparent murderer of his parents running around, who could blame him?

Right now, there were only Peter and Endeavour in the room, and he decided to speak up and dispel any awkwardness that might happen to develop. “I’m sorry.”

Endeavour looked up from the file he had been collecting information in – having explained that it would be easiest if he wrote his own reports for the Council – and frowned. “What for?”

“Well –“ Peter gesticulated towards the black board. “This can’t be easy.”

Endeavour looked at him then, his eyes honest, and Peter realized that, even if they were black, they would still give off the same impression; that of a decent man trying his best. “I don’t really remember much of them” he admitted, shrugging. “Mum and Dad told me about my birth parents as I grew up, of course, and I have the pictures, but… after so long, it’s mostly… impressions. Of quiet strength. Love. Care. Soft hands. Laughter”.

“So nothing about…”

“Oh, I remember being very scared, but I rather think that doesn’t really qualify me as a reliable witness. And if my parents were ever threatened, they would hardly have told me, then.”

No of course they wouldn’t have. Peter couldn’t help himself. “Would they now?”

Endeavour laughed. “When it comes to Dad, everything’s possible. He might try and deal with it first and tell us after.”

“Deal with it. You mean beat whoever threatened you into a pulp” Peter said lightly. He might as well try and establish some rapport, and fast; apart from the (perhaps somewhat mercenary) thought that the Old Man and his children were close, he couldn’t help it – he _liked_ Endeavour, liked his honest answers, his clever insights, and his ability to read a room and defuse a difficult situation if need be.

“I can easily imagine that” he said with a smile. “And to think that I’m supposed to have a vicious temper.”

This time, it was Peter who laughed. He couldn’t imagine Endeavour flying off the rails. “Well brought up, I’d say.”

“There’s that” he agreed with a smile.

* * *

Through his closed door, Fred could hear muffled voices and recognized them as Endeavour and Jakes. Just as well; they would have to work closely together during the case, and he knew that their boy had secretly yearning for a few more human friends that weren’t related to him, but so far the protections put into place had made that difficult.

He wondered what Jakes made of Endeavour. So far, he knew that his sergeant was hardworking, if a bit stroppy; but they seem to get on well enough. Time would tell.

* * *

Peter had offered to make them tea; Endeavour had gladly accepted, and when he brought him his cup, the young demon reached out and Peter saw to his surprise that the machine kept typing.

Endeavour looked up at his face and smiled sheepishly. “I know I shouldn’t, but…” he shrugged. “It’s practical.”

“That work for chores, too?” he asked, suddenly imagining a little boy running around the house while Mrs. Thursday was shouting about a broom that just dusted by itself.

“Oh yes, but that would be frivolous, and Joan and Sam can’t do it, so that would have been very very unfair growing up” he said, his eyes sparkling, and Peter found himself rather sure that he had indeed done so, if only when his parents couldn’t see.

“Could you just explain to me…” he hesitated. “It’s just, with all the different stations involved…”

“But of course” he said immediately, and Peter recognized Win Thursday’s friendliness and helpfulness once more. “Technically, something like this falls under the care of the Council, which would put on an investigation, but with the Bill finally passing into law, it was decided that it should be shown that the police can protect creatures as well as humans. And I, as stated before, am the go-between.”

“Living, breathing proof that humans and creatures can live together” he realized.

“Exactly, Sergeant”. He smiled. “I should have gone to the Academy after my parents’ passing, but instead I was raised by humans.”

Passing. Jakes remembered. Murders.

There ewes someone out there who didn’t think more of cutting someone’s throat than swatting a fly, and as always, it made him angry. “So do you think we are looking for humans or creatures?”

“I rather think it’s more likely a human did it – if there is a connection with my parents. Many are still scared of demons, you see. I mean, what if I suddenly go crazy and rip out your throat?”

Peter gave him an unimpressed stare. He’d seen humans who were much less in control of themselves. The Old Man among them.

He grinned as his eyes flashed back for a moment. “Alright, maybe not.” He tilted his head to his side and studied Peter. “Might I ask a question?”

“Naturally.”

“Why? Why are you not scared? Dad said you don’t have much experience with the supernatural. Anyone would be understandably a little worried.”

Peter thought carefully what to say. He had never told someone openly what had happened top him in his childhood; but had not Endeavour been targeted by a bad man too, even if he didn’t remember it? “I… I have learned that sometimes the biggest monsters out there are humans” he finally said quietly.

Endeavour was still studying him. Then he quietly replied, “I see.”

And strangely enough Peter had the impression that he did, in fact, see. He wondered if…

“Oh, and in case you’re wondering” Endeavour said, doing nothing to allay his suspicions “We can’t read minds.”

* * *

Fred starred at the file. Before they’d left London, he’d quietly and quickly copied it, swearing to himself that he would ever forget and one day get his hands on the bastard.

He’d even taken the pictures, guessing correctly that no one would bother to read it in the intertwining years and so he once again looked upon the bodies of his friends. Cyril had had an Academy training and it had all been for nothing. He would have tried his outmost to protect his wife, Fred knew that, just like he would himself. He’d gotten to know him rather well in a short amount of time, simply because they were rather similar deep down.

He must have known how dangerous it was. Otherwise he wouldn’t have allowed Constance to send Endeavour away.

Fred suddenly wondered if he’d gotten to hug him, one last time. Endeavour had never volunteered the information, so he only knew about Constance’s farewell.

He found himself praying to the gods that he had, then shook his head at himself with a smile. Neither he nor Wil had ever real been church-goers so that it had perhaps been inevitable that they would be susceptible to Endeavour’s faith instead when they saw him praying regularly at his little altar; as a matter of fact, they had done so on several occasions themselves, both with the children and alone.

Fred even had had to catch himself several times when talking to those who didn’t know so they wouldn’t wonder _what_ gods he was praying to.

Still, neither the community itself nor Endeavour when he grew older had ever pushed. They had respected their boundaries and had watched from afar to make sure Endeavour grew up loved and cherished.

And they had done their outmost to do what Cyril and Constance would have wanted, and Fred wasn’t about to stop.

Endeavour knocked. “Dad? We need the file. Put it all up on the black board.”

He hesitated. “Son…”

“I know they were my parents, but we need to know everything” he said firmly.

He nodded. “But if it gets too much –“

He smiled. “Don’t worry. I got you looking out for me.”

That he had.

And again, he wasn’t about to stop anytime soon.

* * *

Superintended Bright waited for them as they walked into the squad room. “Ah. Thursday. Your oldest?”

“Yes, Superintendent. Endeavour Thursday. I usually work directly with the Council.”

“Excellent, excellent.”

If he was in any way surprised that Fred looked younger or had an elder son, he didn’t let it on, but he hadn’t expected him to.

Jakes was already busy putting up the pictures.

“What is that?” Superintendent Bright asked.

“An old case that could be important” Endeavour answered, bravely stepping up to the black board and studying the pictures. “in 1938, my parents were murdered in London. It was thought at the time that it was a hate crime, wasn’t it, Dad?”

Fred nodded. “That’s right. Sadly, it went nowhere.”

“I see” Bright glanced at him. “Conflict of interest – some might say; but since the Council has been in touch, everything seems to be fine.”

It was a slight warning that Fred acknowledged with a nod.

“There isn’t much here” Jakes said, frowning. “Where’s the evidence?”

“What the fire didn’t take care of, the water did” Fred replied simply. “And the rest… they never even bothered to collect it.”

He looked rather confused.

“Dad couldn’t work on the case openly” Endeavour jumped in. “That could have led them to –“

“You. Of course” Jakes realized. “I understand.”

“I’ve asked the Council for help too, just in case…” he trailed off.

Fred had been wondering about that too if he was guessing his meaning correctly. Quite a few times over the years, in fact. But he couldn’t have risked doing the research. Not when their boy needed to be kept safe.

“Excellent” Superintendent Bright said.

Doctor DeBryn entered. “I understand there is an autopsy report and pictures?”

Endeavour indicated them.

He looked at them and uncharacteristically winced. “Sorry for your loss.”

“It was a long time ago.”

He nodded. “From what I can see...” he stepped closer and squinted. “Those wounds look very similar to our victim’s downstairs. Same technique, I’d wager. Quick and to the point.”

Yes, quick and to the point; Cyril and Constance hadn’t even been able to scream once. Someone would have heard them.

“So we are looking for someone who is… well, older now. They must have been adults when they killed the Morses. Means someone closer to fifty, perhaps” Jakes mused.

“Although that doesn’t seem to mean as much as it perhaps otherwise would have” Superintendent Bright said dryly, nodding towards Fred.

Ah. Of course he would think that. “Sorry, sir, but any spell would only alter someone’s appearance, not the actual aches and bruises of aging.”

“Dad’s right. True blood magic is incredibly rare.”

“But they _can_ still change their appearance” Jakes said.

“Yes. They would probably be a fool not to.”

“And there are no magical ways you could use to – I don’t know, find them?”

“Like a magical navigator, you mean?” Endeavour asked, clearly amused, but any ill-will Jakes might have felt was quickly done away with as their son, as diplomatic like Win as always, continued, “I know it’s tempting to believe it. And if I thought about it, I might come up with something. But… well, it’s not a good thing to have that much power at your disposal.”

“You wouldn’t use it to anyone’s disadvantage though, certainly?” Sergeant Strange asked with wide eyes.

“I like to think so” he said courtly. “But there is a reason for all those rumours about demons. Not the really vicious ones, but still…”

There had been a time in his teens when Fred had contemplated banning newspapers, knowing that every time Endeavour read Oxford Supernatural and found anything that could have been even remotely have been caused by demons, he felt it deep in his core. He’d been so very careful in his training lest he ever strike out and accidentally harm his siblings. Not that he and Win had ever been worried in that regard.

Endeavour’s eyes had wandered back to the pictures of his parents, and Fred wondered if he, too, was thinking of the other ones, the ones where they were smiling and happy and carefree, the ones that he kept on his desk and on the altar in the living room.

The phone rang. “Ah that could be the council…” He picked up. “Acting Officer Endeavour Morse Thursday –“

Always a little formal when talking on the phone, Fred thought with a smile.

He frowned. “Of course. Dad, can I go talk in your office? It appears to be rather confidential –“

“Of course” he said immediately.

“Seems difficult” Strange said, looking at the black board too. “There is nothing to go on.”

“We’ll find something” Fred said firmly. He wouldn’t fail Cyril and Constance again.

He wanted to go on but was interrupted by Endeavour, who opened the door to his office, looking whiter than Fred had ever seen him.

His heart sank.

He knew what he had to say.

“There have been others” he announced, his voice trembling slightly. “All over the country.”

**Part Eight – 1938**

The demon community worked fast. Two weeks after she had written to them, Win received an envelope in the mail.

It hurt, seeing Constance and Cyril smile again with their boy in their arms, but Endeavour deserved this. And so, she sat him down after the lunch, holding the envelope, speaking as gently as she could. “Endeavour, you remember the altar?”

He said prayers in front of it every morning, she’d realized.

He nodded.

“Now, in those books I showed you –“

“The big prayer ones?”

“Yes. In there it said that you normally put pictures of the departed on it.”

He frowned for a second, then remembered. “Oh. You mean Mummy an’ Daddy.”

She nodded.

“But they all burned, Mrs. Thursday” he said sadly. “Couldn’ take anythin’ with me.”

“That’s why I wrote to the two who came to see us – you know when we decided you could live with us? And asked for help” she said, taking out the pictures.

She had feared that he had already forgotten their faces, as it had been almost two months and he was still so very young, but instead he reached put and quietly said, “Hello, Mummy an’ Daddy.”

“How about” she cleared her throat, “You pick one to put on the altar?”

He nodded.

* * *

A little while later she was puttering about in the kitchen, Endeavour having been left with something to draw in the living room, when she suddenly heard his voice, and, feeling curious, moved closer.

What she saw when she stood in the door was something she would never forget.

At first, she thought he was praying, but she quickly realized he was talking.

And not to the altar or the gods.

“You really don’t have to worry about me. Everyone’s bein’ really nice, and we got this really big house and a garden – you would like it, Mummy – and Mrs. Thursday takes care of me. Mr. Thursday isn’t home that often because he has a very important job. He catches bad guys. I think he must have put a lot of them away by now, ‘cause sometimes he returns really late. But that’s okay because Daddy worked a lot too. An’ Mrs. Thursday is almost always there.”

Win swallowed and discretely rummaged in her pockets for a handkerchief.

“Sometimes I think of you an’ I get sad ‘cause you’re not there anymore an’ I cry a little, but Mrs. Thursday says that’s okay, and she gives me hugs and kisses and sometimes biscuits. I like the chocolate ones the most.”

Win, who had until now not been aware of that, made a mental note.

“I know you’re with the gods an’ all, an’ that you didn’ wanna leave me. Could you ask them to look out for Mrs. And Mr. Thursday? I know they’re not demons, but please. It’s just fair. ‘Cause they let you be taken away.”

Oh, _Endeavour_. He was too small yet to understand that sometimes, life simply _wasn’t_ fair.

“Anyway, I hope you’re having a lot of fun. Love you, Mummy and Daddy.”

She stole away while wiping her eyes.

* * *

Weeks slowly turned into months. Endeavour started to grow and would go to school soon; as a matter of fact, one day Win woke up to realize he would be turning six into a few weeks. Last year, she and Constance had baked him a cake together, since Win had always loved decorating baked sweets and it had been quite a lot of fun; she couldn’t remember any specific demonic rituals but thought it prudent to check. She called into the shop, having gotten to know Sarah, the owner, rather well.

She actually laughed. “No, don’t worry; no demonic coming-of-age or something like that. Just give him something sweet and a hug, maybe a new toy. He’ll be just as happy as any child.”

“Thank you.”

As if she’d heard her slight hesitation, Sarah replied, “Really, Win, it’s perfectly fine to ask. I know many people who wouldn’t do half as much.”

Well, she thought (if only to herself), watching Endeavour play around in the garden, those people were bloody wrong.

* * *

Endeavour’s birthday was a Saturday, so Fred could be there from beginning to end; Win was rather glad of it. He’d lost his parents only this year, after all.

And yet, what she woke up that morning was a happy, smiling boy, already enjoying his special day.

“Look at that” Fred said cheerfully when they came down, “If that is not the birthday boy. How old are you again today?”

His face glowed with pride. “Six, Mr. Thursday!”

He ruffled his hair. “Important age, that. You’ll go to school soon!”

He jumped up and down with excitement. Win hoped he would find some friends his age; since they had moved to Oxford, they had yet to make some, especially with children who would understand that their boy was a demon.

Soon enough, he and Fred were kicking the ball he’d been gifted around the garden, with Win occasionally helping out while keeping an eye on the cake.

Suddenly she heard him call out and glanced out the window to see him point out a crow and a dove that had landed on their fence and were watching him and Fred. She couldn’t hear what she said.

The birds flew away and Endeavour waved them goodbye.

Rather out for them to stay so quietly while a child was running about, really.

He was allowed to stay up late, of course, asking that Fred read him one of his new picture books.

Win was rather certain they had made it a good birthday, but when he came downstairs, he looked troubled. “Fred?”

“Just thinking”.

“What is it, love?” she asked quietly even thought she could guess.

“They are still talking about war. I might not be there when Endeavour turns seven.”

“Then we’ll be waiting for you” she said, hoping to sound as confident as she could. In truth, the entire city – she was ready to bet the entire country – was buzzing with rumours, and she was more worried than she could express. She found herself thinking in Endeavour’s as of yet simple terms.

_Please don’t take him away from us. Not Fred._

* * *

Endeavour started school, and they were there, standing at the edge of the group, feeling slightly nervous after all – they were just two humans, and non-magical ones at that.

For a whole of five minutes before a little girl approached their boy. “Hey, you’re a demon, I can tell. Why are you here with humans?”

It was openly asked, in the manner of children who didn’t understand there was some thing like an impolite question yet.

“Mum and Dad adopted me” he assured her after he’d looked at them and seen Fred nod; “my original Mummy and Daddy – something bad happened to them,.”

Despite the reminder, Win had to smile.

_Original Mummy and Daddy._

“I’m sorry.” She shuffled her feet. Then her face lit up again. “Wanna play?”

“May I, Mum?” he asked and she told him yes, gently running her fingers through his hair.

And they were off, joining a group of other children.

“Ah, Mr. and Mrs. Thursday”. The principal they had spoken to the day they enrolled Endeavour stepped up to them.

“Good morning” Fred said, while she nodded.

“I was just telling Mrs. Rayon about you –“ He indicated a woman whose eyes, just for a second, seem to be at fire.

She was, however, smiling benignantly. “I hope you don’t mind, Mr and Mrs. Thursday. We have to be careful, and seeing two humans just arrive with a demonic child…”

“Of course you had questions” she said immediately. “But Endeavour’s been living with us for a few months now.”

“So the principal told me”. She turned to the group of children, still smiling. “And Eliana usually has a good instinct for people.”

“Oh, is that your daughter?” she asked off the little blonde girl who’d dragged Endeavour to play.

“Yes” she beamed. “She’s so excited to go to school.”

“Endeavour’s the same. He’s looking forward to being able to read on his own.”

And yet he had asked _but you will still read to me, too, right_? While gnawing his lips.

“May I ask… the principal alluded to certain… I take it his parents were…”

“They were murdered” Fred said bluntly. “I came too late.”

She seemed taken aback. “Oh that’s terrible.” She again glanced at the children. “Endeavour seems happy, though.”

“We’re doing our best” she told her just as she saw Sarah emerge from the shadows with what she knew from their talks was her sister’s boy; and since she was eager for Endeavour to have contacts with other demons too, she excused herself to greet them.

As she did so, she saw two birds fly past them. One of them appeared to be white and one black, but she couldn’t be sure.

* * *

Endeavour took to school like a fish to water. Soon, he was able to find his first few letters and do a little bit of maths; and even Win, who was careful to remember, had troubles keeping all his little friends apart. There was Eliana though, and Michael, Sarah’s nephew, who seemed to be his best ones.

Meanwhile it became clearer and clearer that they were heading towards war. Fred would have to fight. She knew that even if he could have escaped, he would have chosen not to. He was too honourable for that.

And yet…

And yet.

She was currently hovering the living room and glanced at the altar. “Oh Constance” she sighed, “What are we going to do?”

They found out soon enough.

**Part Nine – 1965**

It was the Old man who first spoke after the revelation, his face grim. “How many?”

“Three more cases over the years since – since the Morses. All families.”

Silence fell.

Then, Peter began, “Does that mean –“

“The children too, yes. I got lucky.”

DI Thursday looked like he wanted to punch someone, and it was hardly a surprise. If the Morses’ case had been the first, it meant that he might have stopped this – at least that was what he would be telling himself, Peter was rather sure.

It was nonsense, of course, and Endeavour seemed to be thinking the same because he walked up to him and quietly began to talk.

This was clearly a father-son moment (he might never have experienced one, but he could still recognize them) so Peter took the piece of paper that Endeavour had deposited on the desk and made a head start of writing the names on the board.

The families had always been small, at least, for all the comfort that could give him. Two adults, one child, in different constellations.

“He’s been at it for a long time” Strange said.

“Doesn’t have to be a he” Peter pointed out. The only thing he felt sure of was that this was someone like Mason Gull, someone who didn’t care one bit about the lives he destroyed, other than they had to eb demonic.

He glanced at the Thursdays, the thought that Endeavour wasn’t safe striking him. After all, maybe they wanted to finish what they had started.

There weren’t many demons left in England. It was conceivable that someone might believe they could eradicate them one by one.

 _And how do you do that the easiest?_ he thought. _Taking out the young blood._

By now, Endeavours had successfully calmed down DI Thursday.

Superintendent Bright, who had politely waited for them to finish, spoke. “And what do you suggest we do?”

“We need to take a look at all of these cases” Endeavour stated the obvious. “My contacts at the Council are already working on getting us the files. There has to be _something_.”

 _Even if they all went up in flames?_ Peter thought. _Even then?_

There was nothing else to do, though. Endeavour was right.

* * *

It was Endeavour who called her. Win had just finished hovering when the phone rang. “Hello?”

“Hey Mum it’s me.”

She knew immediately something was wrong. “Endeavour?”

“There were more, Mum” he rushed out. “More cases like my parents’. Four families – four demonic families – killed.”

Oh God. She closed her eyes. Constance had only just managed to save him. “Oh Endeavour, you have to promise me to be careful:”

“You don’t have to worry about that. We both know Dad’s not going to let me out of his sight.”

And thank the Gods for that, she thought, looking out the window and seeing a few birds hop around on the grass. “Still –“

“Yes Mum, I’ll be careful. But this needs to end.”

It really did. “Oh Endeavour” she repeated.

“I know. I know.” He sighed. “Say a quick prayer for them at the altar, please?”

“Of course, dear.”

“Thanks Mum. You’re the best.”

Despite it all, she bid him goodbye with a smile on her face.

And so Win ended her cleaning by taking off her apron and praying to the gods. _And if Cyril and Constance are with you, tell them we’re looking after our boy. No harm will come to him. I promise._

* * *

Around midday, a messenger from the Council brought the files. Endeavour and Peter immediately started going through them.

Peter wondered what the demon was thinking. If not for his mother’s reaction, he would be one of them now – one of the children in the files; all potential gone forever.

“Not exactly… craftsmanship, is there” he said.

“There is definitely more strength than finesse involved, I agree” Endeavour replied.

“Do you think there is a connection between the victims?”

He shook his head. “We can’t rule it out completely, of course, but apart from them being demons, I see no comparisons. Different lifestyles, different counties, different beliefs…”

“How do these demonic religions work, anyway?” he asked before he could stop himself.

“Oh, normally we sacrifice people at dawn. It’s great fun.”

It took him a moment to understand he was joking.

“That’s not what I meant. I was thinking… well, you know – are there like rituals or stuff they would all have had in common?” he shrugged. “To be honest I would have asked the same about the C of E. Not very religious, me.”

Endeavour was silent for a moment, then he quietly said, “It’s personal. Very personal. I have an altar at home, and sometimes I go to the Temple, and I pray. And I know that my family, for all that my parents try to pretend to themselves they don’t believe sometimes, do so as well. What can I say? Life is complicated.”

That it was indeed. Here he was, talking to the demonic son of his governor, trying to catch someone every bit as sick as Mason Gull. He nodded to try and show his support.

Unexpectedly, he chuckled. “Not exactly how you pictured your day to go, is it, Peter?”

“Understatement” he told him honestly, since he figured it was his best bet.

Really, chuckling was probably a way better reaction than any of them could have hoped for. If anything, the Old Man was more affected than Endeavour was.

“There are more things in Heaven and earth…” he mumbled to himself.

“That’s Shakespeare, right?”

He nodded. “Books and opera. My two weaknesses.”

Explained why DI Thursday had known so much about the later during the Mason Gill case, now that he thought about it. “Alright, so there is someone out there who is after demons. Have you ever…” he hesitated. “I mean, is there…”

“Someone ever threaten you, matey?” Strange decided to chime in, blunt and direct as always.

He actually smirked. “Well… there have been one or two odd glances over the years, but I don’t think anyone ever wanted to murder me. Then again, I grew up sheltered”. He glanced at the door of DI Thursday’s office. “Don’t think Dad would have allowed anyone to look at me like this.”

No, he probably wouldn’t have.

And just like that, Peter knew why the Old Man was worried more than Endeavour was.

Endeavour was used to him being there, watching over his family. He wasn’t scared because part of him had never realized he should be.

“First crimes in a series are interesting though” Endeavour said. “I mean, you probably know that” he added, but Peter knew what he meant.

“Your parents?”

He nodded, “And it is safe to say that I was also a target, considering everything.”

Peter had the strong feeling that he would have to stop the Old Man killing someone during this case.

“Well then” he said instead, turning to Strange, “Investigating a crime that took place over a quarter of a century ago. What could possibly go wrong?”

* * *

Fred was rather grateful that Endeavour had been chosen to work the case with them. He would rather know where he was at all times.

Despite his son’s best attempts to placate him, he couldn’t help but think that he could have prevented this. If he had been a little bit faster, if he had got the bastard…

He went to stuff his pipe.

A knock on his door, and then Superintendent Bright strolled in. “A difficult one, Thursday. For more than one reason.”

“Indeed, sir.”

“As I have been given to understand, Officer Thursday and the others are already working on a schedule to go through the cases.”

“We will have to check them all out, sir, although I rather think there will be a distinct lack of suspects – at least according to my experiences.” He hoped he didn’t sound too bitter, but of course Superintendent Bright picked up on it.

“Do not take this the wrong way, but are you up to this? The first victims were his parents and your friends.”

“It’s important we show a united front, sir. Humans and creatures alike. And Endeavour is the best way to do that.”

“Of course.”

Even if Fred would have liked him to be as far away from the case as possible.

* * *

By the time Fred came back into the squad room, the blackboard had been set up. WPC Trewlove had come in and was being brought up to speed while conversing with Endeavour, not showing any sign of surprise or wariness.

“So where are we?” he asked.

Jakes answered. “So far, we know the names of the victims, sir, and that the wounds all look the same. We’ll ask Doctor DeBryn to take a look, of course, but it certainly seems like the sort of Mason Gull case.”

And Mason Gull had just been an ordinary headcase, had at least had the motive of revenge. Not that he had been justified, but at least there had been _something_. He hadn’t slit little children’s throat because their eyes tended to turn black now and then.

Speaking of, Endeavour’s black eyes were out, showing he was concentrating too hard to be careful about them. At least he felt safe enough at the station to become unaware he was openly showing them.

They were setting up a schedule when Sarah came to see them. She and Win still occasionally had tea together, even now when they knew all there was to know about raising a demon and said demon didn’t need any raising anymore. “Good afternoon” she said politely before greeting them individually. “Endeavour, Fred.”

“Hello, Sarah” their boy answered happily as she drew a cross across her breastbone before doing the same on his to bless him.

“I think you should know that the rumour mill is running rampart.”

Sarah’s, being one of the best stocked magic shops in Oxford, had over the years necessarily become a meeting point for creatures.

“We knew it would” Endeavour sighed. “Creatures gossip as much as humans do.”

“Yes, but is it true?”

“Yes” Endeavour admitted; Fred didn’t want to admonish him for it, since they knew Sarah well enough not to be irresponsible; plus she had a good standing in the magical community and could probably stamp out any panic that might be spreading. “Seems like someone is behind more cases than just the bomb and Mr. Silas’.”

“I see”. She turned to Fred. “A word, Inspector?”

Surprised, he acquiesced.

* * *

“What do you think she wants from the Old Man?” Strange asked Peter, who could only shrug.

“Oh, she probably thinks she should talk to Dad because he’s the lead on the case” Endeavour’s cheerful voice – they had erroneously believed that he was at his desk.

“Ahm” Strange said, not knowing where to look. “Sorry, ma – sorry, Officer.”

“No problem” he replied, still sounding rather cheerful. “Although Old Man isn’t quite accurate now, isn’t it?”

No, it wasn’t.

“How does that work anyway?” Strange asked with his usual frankness.

“No one really knows. I didn’t even know it was a thing until Mum and Dad told me, a few years after they found out. I was in my late teens.” He lowered his voice. “Apparently Dad got into a fighting match with the new doctor, who wouldn’t believe the date on his birth certificate.”

Peter smiled against his will; now that he would have liked to see.

* * *

“It’s a difficult situation for all involved, Fred” Sarah began as soon as they were alone, “I won’t deny that”.

“You can say that again” he sighed.

“So many families…” she sighed, referring to the black board she had looked over. “And all those poor babies. We can be happy Endeavour’s mother reacted the way she did.”

He nodded.

“But this… this could very easily become about vengeance” she continued. “And it shouldn’t be, Fred. You have to remember that.”

Ah. So she wanted to warn him. He could understand that. Demons were creatures of magic, of old customs, of traditional beliefs; Yes, vengeance would play a part in it all.

And they had been Endeavour’s parents.

He nodded again to let her know he understood. If it was necessary, he would restrain his own son.

“Good. I am glad.” She surprised him with the same blessing she had given Endeavour. “Careful how you tread, Fred.”

He had every reason to be.

* * *

And so they worked on.

“What exactly would someone have against demons, Officer?” Shirley Trewlove eventually asked Endeavour. “And I don’t mean the rumours or something like that. Is there anything – _anything_ at all – that could explain this?”

But he was shaking his head. “I’m afraid not. There is nothing significant about the neck in demon culture. They maybe just thought it would be quicker than poisoning them or something like that”.

“Whoever they are, they try to cover their traces” Peter said, referring to the files “A fire was at least started at every occasion.”

But thankfully it hadn’t always worked as well as it had with the Morses’ flat; in fact, on the second case, it had barely made done any damage at all. 

“Yes, they definitely didn’t want to be caught” Endeavour mused. “What with all these demons still running around having to be eradicated.” Then, realizing how bitter he had sounded, he added, “I’m sorry. It’s just… we’ve done nothing. I haven’t even lived with demons for most of my life.”

“That’s understandable, Officer” Trewlove replied.

“Endeavour, please.”

“Shirley then.”

He smiled at her. “The point is, someone out there has something against creatures, and they escalated from murders to try and bomb the Temple on a day when many people would have been there.”

Yes, that _was_ a point.

And what a point to make.

* * *

“Good then” Fred began during the meeting in the late afternoon, “Four couples. Cyril and Constance Morse in 1938. Cynthia and Tobias Roberts and their daughter Mildred, 7, in 1944. Sean, Therese and Toby McLeash in 1952. Florence, George and Madelaine Durch in 61, and now Silas.”

“Who was probably just killed to eliminate a witness” Endeavour said. “He might have lived in his own world, but not even he would have been able to ignore what had happened.”

“Which means the killer was in direct contact” Fred mused.

“He would have had to be, to describe the kind of gadget he wanted. Sending a message would have been risky; what if it would have been intercepted?

That made sense. “We should re-examine the cases.”

A pause.

Then, Shirley Trewlove spoke. “No offense sir but I don’t think either you or Officer Thursday should be studying…”

“Of course not” Endeavour interrupted her. “We’ll take the Roberts, won’t we, Dad?”

He knew what he wanted, but he also knew what was prudent, so he acquiesced.

* * *

Cambridge, of all cities. It was about as safe as a city cold get.

Like Oxford.

“Small wonder the file is the shortest” Endeavour told him as he drove the car. “It was war. People had other things to worry about.”

How glad Fred had been to know that no bombs were going down on Oxford, back in the trenches. He didn’t know what he would have done if he had had to worry about that, too. “And of course it was shortly before D-Day. No one was interested in a couple of demons and their child.”

“They usually aren’t, even now” Endeavour sighed.

“That’s not true” he said automatically, trying to give comfort where he could.

Endeavour didn’t answer, which was probably for the best. “What I don’t understand is why this particular fire was started so hap-hazardously. After all, it wasn’t like they lacked practice; our place went up in flames.”

Fred could still feel them stinging his face, sometimes at night when he was half-asleep. It had been worst when Endeavour had still been a child; he had now and the got up just to make sure he was actually safe in bed and hadn’t shared his parents’ fate…

“Dad?”

“Sorry. Lost ibn thoughts.”

He nodded, then continued, “I mean, it was a relatively new building too, so they could hardly had cared about architecture or something like that.”

“We’ll figure it out”.

If only he had felt as confident as he tried to sound.

* * *

“It was perhaps sentimental of me” the landlady – still the same as had been twenty-one years ago (“I might be growing old, but it does one good to have some fresh blood around and the work keeps my occupied, Inspector”) – admitted. “But it seemed so very wrong to just renovate and let the place. The Roberts were such a lovely couple, and their little girl” her voice wobbled a little “Was the most adorable creature you can imagine. How can anyone do this to someone else? So what if they were demons?”

“So what indeed” Endeavour said softly. She understood him wrong and glared at him.

“You don’t have a problem with them yourself, do you, Officer?”

“I don’t happen to hate myself, no” he replied simply, showing her his eyes.

“Oh. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean – I –“

“Really, don’t worry, ma’am” he assured her. “As a matter of fact, we are lucky that you kept the place the way it was.”

“They didn’t have anyone” she said softly. “No one came to claim anything. Now and then I dust, but that’s it.”

They were indeed luck. How often did crime scenes happen to be preserved?

It also did Fred good – although he didn’t say it out loud – to find someone else who wasn’t blinded by prejudices.

She gave them the key and left them to it.

Fred looked around. The place really had been dusted, but other than that…

Like a museum, he thought. _Or a shrine._

A shiver ran down his spine.

Endeavour walked over to the fireplace and looked at the few things that had been scattered there for over twenty years – a vase, a small cross, the pictures proud parents had put there so long ago. “She was a beautiful little girl” he said quietly.

“Ay” he agreed, opening the file. “They learned from their first attack. They were killed in their beds.”

Don’t wake them up, don’t give them the chance to run, to save their child.

“Let’s take a look, then” Endeavour said and they stepped forward together.

They could see the blood stains. It had splashed on the walls due to the ferocity of the cuts.

Fred looked at the pictures and swallowed. How could anyone do this to a child?

And then he suddenly didn’t see Mildred, but Endeavour as he looked on that day, five years old and dead.

He shivered again.

“They definitely had enough time” Endeavour mused. “To burn the place down, I mean.”

“Exactly. The family was dead, no one else around… and they certainly had no qualms burning down your parents’ place, so it can’t have been consideration for anyone else living in the building”.

No. It wouldn’t have been.

Something about this must have been different. But what?

**Part Ten – 1939 onwards**

The war came and Win and Endeavour stood on a train platform, saying goodbye to Fred.

“Oh love, try and stay safe” she begged even though she already knew it would be in vain. How could anyone be safe while fighting?

“I’ll try my best” he promised her, kissing her before kneeling down. “And you two take care of one another, alright?”

“Yes, Dad” he replied, not for the first time calling him such to his face. It had probably been too much to ask of him that he refer to them as Mum and Dad at school and something else at home. And they were proud of it. “I’m gonna pray to the gods so you come home soon.”

“Aye, you do that” he said, ruffling his hair.

Unexpectedly he launched himself at him and right into his arms.

“Do you hafta go?” he whispered against his shoulder.

“Yes, Endeavour, sorry. But I’ll try really hard to come home soon, alright?”

He stepped back and nodded.

Win had to blink back tears.

* * *

Endeavour had made great progress at school, and Win soon found out something else was happening as well.

She heard a crash from the kitchen where he was doing his homework and hurried over to find him staring at a cap of the floor. “What –“

“I don’ know” he replied, his eyes wide and panicked. “I – I was – it’s math an’ I got angry and – I don’t – I don’t –“

Oh. “Endeavour, remember when we talked about how you would develop powers when you grew?”

He blinked up at her. “Yes?”

“I think that was the first one.”

“I don’ wanna break cups.”

“I know, dear”. She stroked his hair. “Look, why don’t you try and calm down – there, I’ll put the radio on – and tomorrow we talk to Miss Leland, alright?”

Endeavour quite liked his teacher, and he nodded.

Like Win had foreseen, Miss Leland assured them that it was completely normal that his powers should show – she actually told her privately that a healthy home life played a big part in it – and enrolled him in special classes on how to deal with them.

Win wanted to write to Fred, but didn’t. She didn’t want it to fall into the wrong hands.

* * *

Now and then, Fred could come home for a few days, but never for as long as they wished. Still, he was always glad to see them.

Even if one day he observed to her while they were watching Endeavour and Eliana play in the park, “I am missing so much.”

“You can’t help it, love.”

“I know, but look at him” he sighed. “I’ve already missed about two inches of him, and God only knows how much longer this bloody war is going to last.”

She took his hand and squeezed.

It helped only a little, if at all.

They didn’t know yet that, the next time Fred would come home, there would be a baby waiting.

* * *

Win was slightly nervous as to breaking the news to Endeavour. What if he thought they were trying to replace him?

She looked at him as he was eating his lunch. He had indeed grown quite a bit since he had come to live with them five years ago; and she was sure he would one day be a very handsome young man.

And such a gentle and kind boy, too. Always eager to help his friends and others, and Win would be ready to swear that she had never heard an angry word of him, for all the difficulties life had dealt him.

She knew then that there would be absolutely no difference in her heart between him and the child she was carrying. He was theirs, and that was it.

“Thanks Mum” he said happily having finished his ration. “I’ll wash up and do my homework –“

“Not yet, Endeavour” she reached out and gently took his hand. “There’s something I have to tell you.”

He frowned at her, then looked shocked. “Is it Dad?”

The fathers of two of his friends had fallen.

She quickly shook her head. “No, no, it’s – something nice. I’m pregnant. We’re going to have a baby in the house.”

He looked at her, then at her stomach – having some clue as to where babies came from but not yet knowing everything – and then asked, “When? Can I play with them?”

She laughed. “Not for a while yet, Endeavour. But yes, of course. As long as you’re careful. They’ll be very small in the beginning.”

“Like Eliana’s sister?”

“Yes, exactly.”

He nodded. “I’ll be careful, Mum.”

She hugged him. “I know you will.”

She couldn’t know what it would lead to.

* * *

She had come home with little Joanie a week ago, Endeavour being completely enamoured of his baby sister. Seeing as she was sleeping and their oldest was doping his homework, she had quickly run to the store for a few minutes. Granted, she lost a bit more time by giving to the Committee for Famine Relief, but she couldn’t have been gone for more than fifteen minutes at the most.

Joan was still sleeping in her cot, that hadn’t changed, but Endeavour was slumped down on the sofa.

“Endeavour?” forgetting all about her groceries, she rushed over to him.

He was listless and pale. “Tired” he mumbled as she swept him up in her arms.

“Oh, Endeavour –“

He wasn’t hot, but he definitely didn’t look right. This was unlike any other illness she had ever seen, and she quickly carried him to his bed. “It’ll be alright, dear –“

Joan started crying, of course, and soon she was trying to shush her while calling Dr. Gibran, a demon who had been another recommendation of Sarah’s and knew Endeavour.

He arrived soon after, just as Joan had fallen asleep again. “Hello, Mrs. Thursday. Now what appears to be the matter?”

She told him, and added that now, his little mood swings he’d had for the past week or so might not have anything to do with the new addition to the family after all as she had believed.

“Let’s take a look.”

She stood next to the bed as he examined Endeavour, her heart beating loudly in her chest. _Please_ , she prayed to his gods, _he’s only ten, pleas, please let it be something benign_ –

“Ah” Doctor Gibran said. “I think I know what happened here.” He very gently shook him awake. “Endeavour? It’s Doctor Gibran. Do you remember me?”

“Yeah. Tired.”

“I know you’re tired, but I need you to answer a few of my questions. For your Mum, okay?”

“Ok.” He sounded so weak.

“Have you been using your powers lately?”

“No!”

It came out so suddenly and strongly that she could only stare.

“And why not?”

“What if I hurt lil’ Joanie?”

“I am sure your mum wouldn’t let that happened.”

“But what if?” he looked much more awake now as he contemplated that terrible fate. “Mum said I had to be careful”.

Oh no.

She rushed past the doctor and took him in her arms. “I meant when picking her up or playing with her, Endeavour. I never thought you could be a danger to her otherwise.”

He looked confused. “But at school there are all these stories –“

“To make you want to be careful with your powers. That’s all. I know you already are. Please, dear, please, let us help.” She looked imploringly at the doctor, who nodded.

“Now, Endeavour” he said, taking out his notebook “Can you put this on your desk over there with your powers? Your mum says you can control them pretty well by now.”

He complied, already perking up as he did so, and Win breathed a sigh of relief.

“It’s no good for demons to keep them constrained” Doctor Gibran told her a little later, Endeavour having fallen asleep again. “One or two days at home playing with his sister and doing some exercises, and he’ll be fine.”

“Thank you so much, Doctor.”

“Don’t mention it.”

That night, with her busy cuddling bother of the children and reading to them (well, to Endeavour; Joanie was too small to understand yet) she heard a noise and glanced at the window to see a dove.

Strange. She hadn’t known the flew at night.

She didn’t write about it in her letters to Fred. She let him know Endeavour had been slightly ill, but that was about it.

And she made extra sure from this day on that he knew she trusted him implicitly.

* * *

She wasn’t the only one sending letters. Endeavour had insisted on writing to his dad, too, and so she was once again doing here best to fit both their missiles into an envelope.

Feeling somewhat guilty, she read through it, but she had to make sure he gave nothing away.

 _Dear Dad,_ it said.

_You don’t have to worry about us, Mum and Joanie are doing well. She sometimes cries at night, but not often, and that makes her much better than Eliana’s baby sister because she cries all the time. When I go to her, she makes happy noises and shakes all over and Mum says that means she loves me. I love her too. I am very careful when playing with her._

_Please come home soon so you can meet Joanie,_

_Endeavour._

_P.S. I am still praying to the gods to keep you safe._

She was especially careful while folding the letter back up.

* * *

Despite the age differences between the children, things went well. Endeavour was completely enamoured with Joan, and just like he had written in his letter, this was reciprocated. Win quickly found that she could leave them alone for short periods of time, and Endeavour took great pride in looking after the baby.

By now, he had not only learned how to control his powers, but when and how to show his demonic eyes, for which Win was very grateful indeed. Even if the potion should fail at any moment, he could pass off as human.

Sometimes she remembered they never caught the one who did – who harmed Constance and Cyril, and she went to the altar to pray.

Ironically, Fred came home once and for all on the Day Of The Fallen; Endeavour’s school had decided that twelve-year-olds were finally old enough to celebrate it with the solemnness it deserved, and so they waited for him dressed in black and red, as was the custom.

Endeavour was holding Joan’s hand. She’d begun walking quickly, intent on keeping up with her sibling.

He was the first to spy him, waving happily. “Dad!”

Fred’s entire face lit up and Win knew in that moment that everything was going to be alright.

**Part Eleven – 1965**

There were precious few people on the street left who even remembered the Morses. Most seemed surprised that a demon couple had ever lived there.

Peter massaged his temples, wondering why people had to be so bloody prejudiced against someone just because they had black eyes.

“We cold try the church” Strange suggested, “Priests tend to stick around.”

It made as much sense as anything else.

* * *

Father Bernard knew immediately who they were speaking of. “Oh my, Sergeant, this was over twenty years ago!”

“Twenty-seven, yes” he corrected him. “But we believe the murderer has reappeared.”

He shook his head. “Such terrible things have to come to pass these days…”

“Can you tell us anything?”

But he shook his head again. “I’m sorry. The Morses were not part of my congregation. I knew them from sight, of course, but other than that…”

“Did you just say the Morses?” a voice interrupted them and Peter turned around to see a woman in her mid-to-late fifties studying them with shrewd eyes. “I knew them. They never did anyone any harm.”

“If you’ll excuse me, there’s the church to see to…” Father Bernard said and they let him go, disappearing deeper into the church as they talked to, as transpired, Mrs. Tracy.

“I didn’t know Mr. Morse all that well, but Mrs. Morse took her little boy to the park all the time. Cute little chap. I wonder what happened to him.”

Somewhere in Peter’s brain, an alarm bell rang out, but before he could stop him Strange answered, “Friends of the Morses took him in. He’s doing well.”

She relaxed. “Oh that’s wonderful. I worried sometimes…”

It were those shrewd eyes, Peter decided. And Doctor DeBryn had said it could very well be a woman… and she had just managed to get a clue as to where Endeavour was.

He decided to check her out once they had returned to Oxford.

* * *

When they had all assembled ion the squad room once more, it transpired that they had got the most out of the oldest cases, which Fred attributed to the fact that they had personally known the Morses and the Roberts’ place hadn’t been set aflame, had indeed been kept in pristine condition.

Perhaps _too_ pristine. Guilt, perhaps? Mrs. Fain – the landlady – herself had admitted she was still fit…

He didn’t protest when Endeavour wrote the names of all the witnesses on the black board.

At least, he told himself, it was progress.

* * *

There was something, Endeavour was sure, that he was missing, and it was making him nervous.

Too long. They were taking too long. The healing must begin, humans and creatures had to finally begin to understand one another, but they couldn’t as long as creatures were scared of what had happened at The Temple.

Frustrated, he let out a sigh and studied the pictures of the Roberts’ flat again.

Wait. The fireplace…

He bit his lip. Perhaps…

He needed to be sure.

“Shirley, if my father asks, would you tell him I needed to check up on something? This fireplace… we were right. I think there was something different about the Roberts’, and that’s why they didn’t torch the flat.”

She nodded and he left.

* * *

He was lost in thought, which was why he didn’t register the cawing until it was too late.

 _Sounds almost like a warning_ , he suddenly thought, and then there was sharp pain at the back of his head and darkness.

* * *

When he came to, he found that his powers had been bound.

And that he was looking right at his parents’ killer.

* * *

Shirley had learned something of Endeavour’s methods over the past few weeks, and she was growing rather nervous. He never left for this long without checking in. Maybe he had called DI Thursday?

She decided it couldn’t hurt to ask and knocked on his door. “I’m sorry sir, but do you know where Endeavour is?”

He frowned. “No. I thought hew as still at the station…”

“He had an idea, wanted to check up on something…”

“Sir? A bobby said this was just handed in for you” Strange piped up behind her and moved forward to hand him an envelope.

Shirley knew from the way his expression changed that it was bad. “Sir?”

He all but jumped up. “We need to speak to the others. Now.”

* * *

_The young demon, as a sign._

That was all it said, but it was enough. Just a few letters, cut out from newspapers. Just that.

Fred’s hands balled into fists.

How dare they try and take Endeavour from them. How dare they.

Think. He had to think. He would never be able to look Win in the eyes again if something happened to their boy.

“Now, are we certain Officer Thursday is even missing?” Superintendent Bright asked. “Excuse me, Fred, it’s not that I’m not taking this seriously, but –“

“The Council doesn’t know where he is” he interrupted him, having checked. “If he would stay away longer, he would have called me, he would have let us know. I know, sir. _I know_.”

And he did. Something in him was calling out to run, to save him, to keep their boy from harm. He didn’t know what it was, maybe the blood magic that was so strong between them, keeping them young and fit.

Whatever it was, it was telling him to act.

* * *

“Just out of curiosity” Endeavour began, “Who are you? I feel like I have the right to know.”

He didn’t have to ask where he was. The Temple had been closed until all the damage from the Day of Remembrance could be fixed; it was scheduled tor reopen in two weeks’ time, far too late for anything that might be done to him.

Plus, talking would keep his captor occupied while he tried and wriggle out of his bounds. Powers or no powers, he was still capable of acting.

The man looked at him, his white collar stark against his dark robe.

 _Catholic_ , he thought. _The Roberts – they were catholics too. The cross. That’s why he didn’t burn the flat. It would have been a sacrilege to him. There lives meant nothing, but the cross…_

“We know each other.”

“I hardly think killing my parents classifies” he replied.

“I am Father Bernard of St. Edward’s on the street you originally grew up on.”

Endeavour barely remembered the street. “I see.”

Somewhere inside the Temple, he could hear a bird sing.

And he realized he wasn’t scared.

* * *

Fred was more scared then he had ever been, more scared then in the trenches, more scare than when the kiddies had been ill when they were small.

Endeavour. The killer had Endeavour.

His thoughts ran a mile per minute. _Think. A sign. A_ sign _. The young demon as a sign. Now what –_

Someone was knocking on the windows, the impatient tick-tick-tick of perhaps a dove’s beacon…

Suddenly, he knew. “The Temple. What better way to set a sign than to” he swallowed “kill the young demon responsible for the Bill at a sacred place?”

He hated to say it, but he knew it was true.

“Are you sure?” Bright asked.

He looked at him.

“I’ll send every available man and woman” was all Bright said.

* * *

Endeavour looked at the man of the church who was lighting candles. “I thought sorcery was forbidden to you”. He remembered having read something like that in the Bible, at least.

“Sometimes the warriors of Good have to sue despicable methods” he said, sounding honestly apologetic. “It is not pleasant of me to take lives but the earth needs to be purified.”

“We’ve done nothing to you.”

“Your very existence is a sin” he explained, downright gentle. “You need to be purged.”

“That won’t work. You are just one man, and even without me, Dad will figure it out.”

Unexpectedly, he slapped him, only to be sorry for it. “Excuse me. But it is hardly decent to call a human _father_ as a demon.”

“He has been for a long time now, since you killed my other one.” He paused for a moment and then told him the truth. “And no matter what you do to me, you can’t take that away. I’ve been very lucky and very happy. I’ve loved my parents – both sets – and my siblings. I have had friends and I have worked to heal the rift between creatures and humans. No matter what happens I’ve lived a good life.”

“Then” he replied just as politely, “You won’t hesitate to die for your cause, as I would for mine.”

* * *

Jakes was driving, which was a good idea all things considered. Fred would just have raced through the streets.

“But who could it be?” Jakes asked.

“He said something about the fireplace” Trewlove supplied and Fred closed his eyes as he thought about it and what had been –

“The cross” he said suddenly.

“Sir?”

“There was a cross on the fireplace. Not an altar. They weren’t of traditional demonic beliefs; could have been C of E or even catholic.”

“There’s a priest who knew the Morses” Jakes said quietly.

Father Bernard.

Fred’s blood ran cold. How often had he greeted him on the street while he had been plotting the murder of their friends?

“But… I mean it’s a _priest_ ” Strange said. “Shouldn’t life be sacred to him or something?”

“Not if he believe what the bible says about demons” Fred said quietly. He’d read it once, after meeting Cyril, Constance and Endeavour, and had dismissed it instantly. The Bible had been left behind in London, neither he nor Win wishing that Endeavour should read it before he was old enough to understand.

“Then we’re right about the Temple. He would want to desecrate our holy ground.” He realized what he had said; and then he realized it was true. _Ye Gods, please. Protect our Endeavour._

None of them said anything but they continued to race towards the Temple.

* * *

He wasn’t just trying to kill him. This was something more, although Endeavour couldn’t yet say what. He had never studied the Dark Arts, for the simple reason that that was another prejudice he wanted rather desperately to avoid.

The problem was that he now had no idea what Father Bernard was planning.

Now that he was studying him, there was a certain familiarity, as if he had indeed seen him before. Not that it mattered. If he was used, if his soul was being devoured by a dark ritual, made to harm others…

He couldn’t allow that. “What are you doing?”

Father Bernard made a face, as if he had said something unpleasant. “I don’t want to, but again, some things have to be done. You see, you’re a special case. Not just because you escaped me once – but that in itself means I have to atone for my mistake – but because you are a symbol of an unholy unity. I saw DI Thursday today. He shouldn’t look this young. They tried taking you in and making you human; instead, you’ve all but turned them into demons, praying to idols.”

“They never tried to turn me human. They honoured my parents, and yet loved me as one of their own.”

“An abomination” he once more echoed his own words, shaking his head. “But do not worry; I will help at least one of them make amends.”

No. Certainly he wouldn’t – “What are you going to do?”

Dad. Dad was sure to be on his way. _Gods, no._

“It will set an example if he were the one to put you down. It will take a bit of dark magic, of course” he shuddered “But it will be worth it. People will se that mixing with demons only brings them harm.”

“Shouldn’t you know that creating a martyr is a bad idea?”

Another slap, and this time, he meant it. “How dare you compare yourself to our Lord and Saviour!”

“I’m not. Your religion is yours, and mine is mine”. He knew it was hopeless; dealing with fanatics was always like this.

“Worshipping the golden calf” he said sadly.

He could have argued, but what would have been the point? He needed to get out of here and warn Dad.

* * *

They arrived at the Temple; Jakes tried to hold him back, but he would hear none of it. That was his boy in there, bloody Hell, and he was going to get him home.

His gun was heavy in his hands. If he had to, he would kill Bernard without hesitation.

In his quest, he didn’t hear Trewlove call out that something was wrong, or Strange and Jakes shouting that for some reason, they were unable to enter as he ran into the Temple.

* * *

He had done it. Endeavour could feel it, his own powers telling him that something had happened, dampened as they were; they were recoiling from whatever it was.

And he thinks we are evil, he thought as he began to sweat. This was something, something to make Dad do a thing he would regret.

He didn’t even care that it was about his life. But Dad… what would this to him? To Mum? To Joanie and Sammy, looking every day at the man who had hurt him?

He couldn’t let that happen.

And, even as he desperately tried to get free, another door in his mind opened, and he focused part of him on the one thing he could do.

He prayed.

_Ye Gods, there was a reason I was spared that day. I know it. You know it. My demonic mother knew it, otherwise she wouldn’t have sent me to those who became my parents in everything but blood. My name is not a coincidence. I’m endeavouring to heal the rift between creatures and humans, and it might be too much for a single lifetime, but even so, I am not done. Not yet._

And then he was yanked up by his hair and let out a yelp.

* * *

It didn’t take him long to find Bernard and Endeavour, something calling to him, something in his blood –

_No, not this time, Fred something’s not right –_

There were too many voices in his head, he suddenly realized, but what did it matter as long as he got to save their boy?

And there they were, Bernard using Endeavour as a human shield, a knife against his throat. “Ah. Inspector. Although you were still a constable in those days, weren’t you?”

“You knew them” he said quietly because it was all he could say. “You knew them and you knew they would do you no harm.”

“Their existence was the harm that was being done. I never asked to be a warrior of God. We all have our cross to bear.”

He met Endeavour’s eyes and read a warning that he couldn’t bear.

* * *

_I take it all back. If I have to die, I have to die. I won’t be selfish, I promise. Just don’t punish him for it._

And then another thought, perhaps not selfish, but self-absorbed, but if you’d have asked him, he would have pointed out that he had his reasons.

_You looked after me. Actually, I have a suspicion who’s looked after me all these years. You won’t let me down, you won’t let us down now. He looked after me. He didn’t have to. Neither of them did. But here we are._

* * *

And all of a sudden, Fred could hear Cyril’s voice in his head loud and clear.

_Kill him. Avenge us. Save Endeavour._

His finger tightened on the trigger.

And another voice piped up, this one sounding remarkably like the woman he had spent the last decades loving more than he ever thought he could love a woman.

_He’s holding Endeavour against him. Hurt him, hurt Endeavour. You can’t hurt our boy, Fred. We’ve kept him from harm for so long. Don’t do it._

But –

But –

_They knew who we were and they still entrusted their son to us._

And then, above all, clarity about the one thing he would never do.

_Don’t hurt our oldest son._

* * *

He was struggling. Dad was struggling against the magic in a way he had never done when Endeavour used his powers around him.

Hope bloomed in his heart, and he used it. He wriggled his wrists some more, loosening his bonds.

I can do this. I am Endeavour Morse Thursday. I didn’t survive this night to die like this.

And then, he saw it.

* * *

Something was getting through the voices.

That something was Endeavour.

He was no longer looking at Fred, but over his shoulder, his eyes very deliberately and slowly turning black even though it could make Bernard snap.

And quite out of nowhere, dispassionately, simply, Fred understood.

He thought of Endeavour’s sixth birthday, and two birds sitting on their fence.

He thought of birds playing around in the garden, watching the children.

He thought of Win writing to him about a dove sitting on a windowsill at night.

_You were always there weren’t you? Of course you are here today._

Endeavour was mouthing something.

Oh.

Three.

Fred readied himself.

Two.

Careful now…

One.

A crow and a dove – Fred couldn’t be sure, but he would always believe deep in his heart that the crow had a scar under one eye – appeared and flew straight into Bernard’s face. He shouted and moved; Endeavour did so at the same time, and to Fred’s horror, red blood fell on the floor.

“ENDEAVOUR!” he rushed over.

“It’s alright” he wheezed. “Just a small cut.”

It was true.

“Oh thank the Gods” he breathed.

“Dad, Father Bernard” he reminded him – of course he would, _of course he would_ – and so he turned and saw him still wrangling with the birds. The two seemed to sense they were looking and took off.

He had dropped the knife.

“It’s over, Bernard” Fred told him quietly just as the others finally made their way to them.

“We suddenly could –“ Jakes began.

“I think it’s safe to say, Sergeant” Endeavour told him, the small cut still visible, “That his grip on the magic’s faded”.

It was at this moment that Bernard drew another knife and tried to attack them, or rather Endeavour; it was a suicide mission and would have been one, since Fred was already raising the gun, but his oldest simply used his powers to throw him to the ground. He leaned down.

“Now this” he said quietly. “Was for my parents. And the Roberts. And the McLeashs. And the Durchs. And Silas. And anyone else that you brought pain in the name of your God.”

He was whimpering quietly, but Fred couldn’t bring himself to care.

He could have killed him, he well knew. Told everyone it was an accident, and of course it would have been self defence.

But that wasn’t the point, wasn’t it? The healing… it had to begin with an act of mercy.

And there was no thirst for revenge in Endeavour, he knew that now. They had taken him in, they had made him their son, and they had raised him well and happy.

It was all he had ever wished.

He pulled him into a hug while the others properly arrested Bernard. “We’ll have to get that cut looked at” he told him.

“I am sure Doctor DeBryn could…”

He pulled back to look at him.

“Fine.”

He nodded and smiled, not quite having let go of him yet.

* * *

He tried calling Win and gently breaking to her what had happened, which naturally led to her showing up at the station,. By then, they had thankfully taken care of the cut; however, this didn’t prevent her from pulling him into her arms. “Oh Endeavour.”

“I know Mum. But it’s over. It’s finally over.”

Win seemed more relieved than the case warranted until Fred realized that she, too, had always been a little worried that someone would come after their boy to finish the job.

Well. Not anymore. He was free and safe now, they all were.

* * *

Two weeks later, the Temple was reopened, and Endeavour was asked to give a speech.

Fred found him in a room within, pacing up and down, after having seen where Win, Joan and Sam were sitting and having gone to wish him luck.

“Everything alright, son?”

“It’s… a lot” he admitted, then swallowed. “So many people will be listening, creatures and humans…”

“Exactly. This is what you’ve been working towards –“

“ _We_ , Dad –“

“Anyway, you’ll be amazing.”

He smiled. “Thanks, Dad.”

“Just stating the obvious.”

A quarter of an hour later, Endeavour climbed the small podium that had been built for the occasion. He was dressed ion the traditional demonic way for the Day Of The Fallen, just like the rest of the family.

“I wish you all a good morning” he began, looking young but competent (and, as Win had proudly declared at home, _infinitely_ handsome) “The divide between humans and creatures is one that has brought pain upon all of us for far too long. It is time for both sides to decide how to move forward. As a demon who was raised into a loving human family, I can assure you that the two are not mutually exclusive…”

Win’s hand found his and squeezed.

Fred smiled at her.

**Epilogue – 1965**

The party was loud and colourful. The streets were filled with people, humans getting to know creatures, creatures getting to know humans, trying each other’s food, learning about their customs.

And Endeavour had to be here somewhere.

Win had sent Fred to ensure that he would have something to eat after it had surprisingly transpired that he had left Joan and Sam behind for once.

He didn’t find him in the midst of it all like he had expected; no, there, on the edge to a small park, was Endeavour, looking at the sunset.

Fred wasn’t sure, but he thought there were two small dots – one black, one white – moving far away from them in the sky.

Saying goodbye, son? He wanted to say instinctively, then decided against it. After all, no one was ever really gone as long as they were remembered. “Big day” he said instead.

Endeavour nodded. “And just the beginning.”

Yes, but what a beginning. “You’re not alone with this.”

“I know, Dad. I’ve never been alone” he smiled.

Fred smirked back, remembering something. “I met Eliana in the crowd. Didn’t recognize her until she spoke to me. Come back from her studies abroad, has she? Grown mighty pretty.”

A slight blush. “We had coffee last week.”

Yes, Fred thought, here they were, at the beginning, with so much potential.

And father and son turned around to face the future.


End file.
